


Moon Trance

by momonigiri



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momonigiri/pseuds/momonigiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a chance meeting leaves her shattered, can Hawke find the strength to save those she loves...from herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Fine Evening

** Changes: character portrayal (in particular, Leandra, in my opinion). I loosely follow various plot aspects of the game, but it's pretty much an AU kind of story. **

 

** Rated 'M' for: strong suggestive themes/language. Enjoy! **

 

** Edit 12/27: I'm going through the story and editing it for flow and format, so if you see things that can be improved, please tell me. :D **

 

* * *

 

Elanna Hawke sat quietly one morning on a small, three-legged stool in the corner of her bedroom, and reflected on past events. It wasn't like her to do such a thing, but since moving to Kirkwall with her sister and her mother a few months ago, she seemed to be doing it almost daily. Today, her thoughts carried her back to the recent past, reliving her last moments in her home in Ferelden: the hurried nature of their departure, Bethany blasting through hordes of darkspawn with her magic, and their narrow escape in the direction of their mother's childhood home.

 

Flashes of endless fights flickered in the young woman's memory: the blood, the fatigue, and the fear her mother must have felt as she constantly tried to remain out of sight while her children fought off their pursuers. She remembered bickering with her brother, and the harsh words he spewed simply because he thought he would be a better leader for the family. And of course, the family squabble wouldn't be complete without Carver referencing how their father had always favored Elanna above the rest of his children. And that was when the ogre came, but Elanna was too mad to notice its presence before- - -

 

Elanna studied the dew covering the small windows in the room, the sun trying to peak through the horizon. Wetting her quill, she turned her eyes back to the yellowed book page she was filling at that moment. She moved her hand across the page quickly and lightly, writing her thoughts down as they came to her:

 

_ If only Bethany wasn't a mage, then we wouldn't have to live like this... _

 

Elanna shook her head, trying to rid herself of the shameful feelings that had materialized into words. She blotted the phrase until several pages behind it were also soaked through with black ink. How could she write things like that when her sister has been nothing but a kind and gentle soul all of her life?

 

Scratching the page again, Elanna began once more:

 

_ It's not Bethany's fault she was born a mage, nor is it her fault we are living in Lowtown... _

 

She recounted the events leading up to their admittance into the city of Kirkwall, lamenting the state of her Uncle Gamlen's house (not to mention, his drunken and obnoxious character). Elanna allowed herself a smirk of grim satisfaction as she wrote on:

 

_ At least my skills are finally being utilized... _

 

She turned over to the next unstained page, and hurried to write down her thoughts on her time working for the rogue elf and thief-lord, Athenril.

 

_ Can't say that I'm leaping for joy at the kind of work she gives me, but at least I don't have to kill innocent or undeserving people... _

 

The sweet smell of baking bread filled the room, making Elanna's mouth water. Scribbling a last sentence in her leather-bound journal, she rose to go into the kitchen to see what her mother was doing.

 

_ Meeting Varric today...hope he'll have a good job for me... _

 

* * *

 

Walking over to the space that served as the kitchen area, Elanna cleared her throat as her mother looked up, wringing her delicate hands on a tattered dish towel.

 

"Oh, Elanna, you're awake. Would you mind helping me with breakfast before the others wake?"

 

"Of course, Mother... anything I can do to help," Elanna addressed the woman before her as she grabbed a knife and began slicing various cheeses.

 

A few minutes passed without conversation as the two women busied themselves around the small kitchen. Elanna turned at the sound of a robe rustling behind her.

 

"Bethany," Elanna said warmly, facing her younger sister with a soft smile.

 

Her sister returned Elanna's smile with a groggy one of her own as she wiped her eyes.

 

"Breakfast is ready," Elanna began as she took plates of cheeses, juice, fruit, and bread to the make-shift table at the other side of the room.

 

The plates began to shift toward the left. Elanna grimaced, and taking an un-nailed piece of wood from one of the panels on the floor, shoved it underneath one of the table's legs. The plates stopped moving, and Elanna hoped the decrepit thing would last through breakfast without falling apart like everything else seemed to be doing.

 

"What?" Bethany began as she looked at the table, "You're not going to set a place for yourself, Lanni?" the younger Hawke continued, noticing a plate missing from the breakfast table.

 

Elanna smiled. It always made her happy to hear her sister refer to her by her childhood nickname.

 

"No, I don't have time to sit in for breakfast...looks like I'll be heading over to the Hanged Man soon to see what Varric has in store for me today."

 

Refocusing her attention on setting out utensils so as not face her mother and sister's worried looks, she continued,

 

"I have to do something...otherwise, how are we ever going to get out of...of this," Elanna gestured around her to provide emphasis.

 

"Can't I go with you? I may be helpful with the magic I know. I thought after everything, you'd finally let me fight alongside you more often," Bethany pleaded as she looked from her mother to her sister.

 

"Bethany, you can't draw attention to yourself. If anyone finds out you are an apostate mage, they'd surely throw you in the Circle. The reason we came to Kirkwall in the first place was to build a new life...not make ourselves the targets for more trouble." Mother said reasonably as she placed a hand on Bethany's shoulder.

 

With a sigh that said she understood, Bethany sank down a slowly in a chair, and began to eat in silence. Elanna, kissing her mother on the forehead and waving goodbye to her sister, left their small home in search for the illustrious and famous Hanged Man Tavern.

 

* * *

 

"I'm telling you, Hawke, this is going to be easy coin," Varric said, taking a swig from a water jug on the table in front of him, the excitement etched across her face was obvious.

 

Elanna chuckled. Another change happened since coming to Kirkwall as well: no one ever called her by her first name, Elanna (she honestly wasn't sure if she had ever told anyone her real name). To everyone in Kirkwall, she was Hawke: the tough, rogue warrior who was more comfortable on a battlefield than in a lady's dress.

 

It was now mid-morning, and Hawke was sitting across the table from her companion, Varric. The dwarf was covered in gold rings along his ears that jingled whenever he was excited or laughing.

 

He leaned over to speak to Hawke in a more private manner, "Look, I talked to one of my many, many contacts, and they set me up with an easy job for the night. Grab Aveline and meet me here tonight when the sun sets. We'll head on over to a warehouse where we need to retrieve some 'stolen goods'."

 

"What do you mean by 'stolen goods' exactly..." Elanna said, her eyebrows raised in suspicion. The dwarf chuckled as an all-too-familiar glint shown in his eyes.

 

"Ah, by that I mean, I am not sure who is doing the stealing- - -us or them." Now laughing heartily, Varric thumped the woman on the back.

 

"Alright, I'll meet you here with Aveline, but I hope we'll end up less bloody than we did on our last job- - -" she replied while trying to keep a stern face. Varric, however, could see Elanna's eyes dancing with playful mischief.

 

"Ya' know, you really are somethin' else, Hawke...looks like life will never be boring as long as I'm with you."

 

Hawke waved a hand as she exited the tavern, looking for a quiet place to polish her equipment and knives.

 

* * *

 

** -Fenris- **

* * *

 

Finding Athenril was difficult enough, but then stealing the amount of coin needed for her "services" proved to be just as difficult. He placed a leather pouch in her hand. She opened it, counting the silver inside, then nodded.

 

"Seems everything's in order. I'll inform Anso to direct them to the Alienage. Something to do with a chest, hmm?"

 

"Yes. The merchants are in possession of stolen property," he lied. "I need your people to help me get it back."

 

"Is it…valuable?" Greed practically dripped from her words.

 

"Mere childhood memories, I assure you."

 

"Hmph, it'll be done within the week," Athenril said, now uninterested.

 

Fenris shifted uncomfortably. "No sooner?"

 

"Probably tonight. Of course, please feel free to do this yourself if you think you can do a better job."

 

"No. I can wait."

 

He left, feeling uneasy and on edge.

 

_Can Athenril be trusted? Seems she would sell her own kin if it meant making decent coin. What if it take days for anything to happen? She said Anso would be in Lowtown, so maybe I can wait there._ Ducking his head, he began making his way through the unfamiliar streets.

 

He traveled slowly, doing his best not to get lost. The twists and turns of Kirkwall were vaguely reminiscent of Minrathous, though in no discernible way. Constantly looking behind him, Fenris felt that at every turn, he'd see Danarius waiting for him, beckoning Fenris to come and accept punishment- - -something much worse than death, in his opinion.

 

Night fell slowly, the sky becoming streaked with an array of purples and blues. The moon was well overhead by the time he entered Lowtown, walking quietly with footsteps placed so as to make the least amount of sound. The only other creature out at this hour was a dwarf, wide-eyed and trembling beside a merchant's cart. Fenris approached slowly, eyes and ears alert for an ambush.

 

"Are you Anso?"

 

The dwarf jumped, clutching his chest, "By the Stone, where did you come from? Who are you? Are you with that group? I already sent them to the Alienage, not ten minutes ago. Please don't kill me."

 

Anso shrank back into the shadows, eyes tracing Fenris' markings.

 

"I won't kill you. They were here already?"

 

Anso pointed in the direction they had gone, "Yes. They're not that far from here. You should be able to see them up ahead."

 

Fenris could hear faint shouts and metal clashing.

 

"Shit," he muttered.

 

Weaving through an alley as quickly as possible, he spotted a group of people before him. But by the time he got to the Alienage, the battle seemed to have stopped. He could hear a man and a woman shouting insults at one another. Another man stood watch, scanning the horizon just outside the fight, probably looking for Fenris. In one swift motion, he drew his dagger and thrust it into the man's back.

 

"Captain!"

 

Fenris pushed his victim, letting his body crumple onto the ground, lifeless. Fenris stepped into sight.

 

"Your men are dead," he announced.

 

A small group stood near the Alienage's tree—two women and one dwarf, their clothing and armor drenched in blood. Their weapons were drawn, but none of them moved to attack him. Near the steps, the slaver laughed, whip clutched in hand.

 

"Here you are, Slave. Time to come back. Your master misses you."

 

"He is no longer my master."

 

Rage flared within Fenris, activating the lyrium in his flesh. His arm glowed an eerie, blue color as Fenris shoved his hand within the slaver's chest and clutched the man's still beating heart. Dropping the organ onto the ground, he sneered.

 

"I have no master."

 

The dwarf whistled. "Well now, that's quite a display of power ya' got there."

 

Fenris shook blood from his fingers, scowling.

 

_ Did these people kill all of the slavers? How could they have managed? _

 

"Are you the people Anso contacted?"

 

"We are," one of the women answered. She stepped into the light, her raven dark hair made her moonlit skin seem to glow and her eyes sparkle like emeralds.

 

"Anso said we were to recover stolen property, but I'm sorry to say we couldn't find anything. Were you working for him as well?"

 

"No."

 

He bent, digging through the dead man's pockets, seeming to ignore the group standing in front of him. In a side pouch, he found a flat black stone bearing Danarius' sigil.

 

"It is as I feared." Fenris stood, facing the woman again. She seemed to be in charge of the group; the red-headed woman and the dwarf clearly deferred to her.

 

"My former master, Danarius, is a Tevinter magister who sent these men to recapture me. I am the 'stolen' property to be recovered, but I wish to retain my freedom. If you will assist me in slaying him, I will reward you."

 

She glanced at her companions, then back to Fenris. "No one deserves to be a slave. If he's as bad as you say, we'll be happy to help kill him. No charge."

 

"That's noble of you, Hawke," the other woman murmured in agreement.

 

"Hawke, is it? I am called Fenris."

 

She smiled and bowed slightly. "Elanna Hawke, at your service- - -my friends, Varric Tethras and Aveline Vallen. We'll do whatever we can to help you, Fenris."

 

"So, where to, Elf?" Varric asked, hefting his enormous crossbow back into its holster.

 

"Hightown. Danarius has a mansion there, I recall. I see no reason for him to be waiting anywhere else."

 

Hawke laughed, her eyes shining. "One nighttime adventure after another! Who needs sleep when there's a mansion to sack and a magister to kill?"

 

"That's the spirit, Hawke!" Varric laughed. "I know a quick way to get there. Follow me."

 


	2. Mansion of Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 2! 
> 
> Although I do put headers every once in a while of whose POV the section is in, it is not a steadfast thing, and I tend to switch up POV often as I see fit. Please comment or review on things you thought were interesting or unexpected as I can go into more detail into those elements if you wish. Enjoy!

     The dwarf's route to Hightown was, indeed, faster. They traveled in near silence, Varric humming under his breath. Neither he nor the slender young woman beside him seemed to be worried, though. Aveline moved with easy grace, as if her heavy armor weighed no more than paper. Fenris watched Hawke as she moved through the streets at Varric's direction, evaluating her weapons. A dagger and some throwing knives were tucked into her belt, as well as two larger blades rested at her back. 

_She's obviously a rogue of some sort. Why did she offer to help kill Danarius? Perhaps she means to turn me in as a way of granting his favor._

Fear crawled within him, urging him to abandon these people before their inevitable betrayal.

 

"Is this the place you mean?" Varric asked, interrupting Fenris's thoughts.

 

He nodded. "This is it."

 

"Well, let's not stand around counting stars."

 

Hawke marched confidently to the front door. She tried the handle, frowning as it opened easily at her touch. "They may be expecting us."

 

"Then we shouldn't disappoint them," Aveline replied, sword in hand and shield at the ready. Stepping carefully, she disappeared through the doorway behind Hawke.

 

Fenris followed, peering into the silent mansion.

 

"Danarius!" he shouted. "Come and meet your fate!"

 

He was answered by throngs of shades and well-armed mercenaries rushing toward them.

 

"Here we go!" Varric cried happily. "Come on out, Bianca, say hello!"

 

     The air around the soldiers ignited, knocking them to the floor with concussive force. Fenris turned to see Hawke, her jaw set in calm concentration as she threw what looked like a small hand bomb, stunning her victims senselessly.

 

Only Varric seemed amused, as though this were all some incredible joke.

 

"That's two for me! How many have you got, Hawke?" the dwarf called out.

 

"Five!" she shouted back. "Keep up, or you're next!"

_I knew it_ , Fenris thought, plunging his sword deep into a mercenary's chest. _As soon as she's finished with these men, she'll turn on me. Or her companions._

 

     They rampaged through the mansion's rooms, killing everything that moved. Hawke was merciless to demons and guards alike, yet seemed to take special care to spare her friends from danger. Fenris noted several times that she could easily have hit any one of her companions with the hand bombs she threw, and yet chose instead to use her various blades if she were too close to any of them.  

 

"Behind you!" Fenris whirled around with the ease of instinct and practice, taken by surprise by one of the mercenaries.

 

Hawke swooped down almost as true as her name, and stuck both blades into the man's chest as Fenis, without hesitation, ran his sword over the man's throat. For a split second, Fenris was so near to Hawke he could see her eyes sparkling with adrenaline , but her outward demeanor remained calm and collected. She returned this glance, and for a moment, it seemed as if the noise and killing quieted. Confused by the slight flash of another emotion he could not place, he lept aside to offer aide to Varric and the others.

 

_I must be so weary that I am beginning to imagine things..._

 

Danarius never appeared, however, and the rage within Fenris began to boil over. Kicking a chair so hard it smashed into pieces, he gestured around the room.

 

"Take whatever you want. I'm sure you could sell some of the items here. I…need some air."

 

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

 

Stopping outside of the large entryway, he felt the markings on his arms pulsate as the night's cool air drifted over his skin. Danarius was gone, and he had no idea what his next course of action would be.

     The mansion's door opened. Hawke and the others walked out, stopping at a respectful distance in front of Fenris. Hawke said softly, "I am sorry we were unable to find your...former master, Fenris, I truly am."

_Sorry? She is sorry?_

Confused yet again, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You sure you didn't use some kind of magic back there...the amount of force and accuracy required of a normal human to execute those kinds of skills is... _uncommon_ , at best." 

"I am no mage, but my sister is. What of it?" 

"So you do not deny that magic runs through your family's blood? Or perhaps, she is already in thrall to a demon and you dared not mention it before now?" 

Her face darkened. "Bethany does not practice blood magic." 

"You say that now, but I have seen mages give in to the temptations of a demon, and nothing good ever comes of it. It's only a matter of time before she turns on the people who love her."

Aveline glared at Fenris. "Come on, Hawke, let's go."

"In a moment." She walked forward, close enough for Fenris to see the fatigue in her eyes, her voice oddly quiet. "I'm sorry we couldn't help you tonight, Fenris. If there's any way that we can help you, please, tell me."

     He hesitated, caught off guard by her refusal to argue with him.

"I owe you more than I can pay for your assistance. If you would like me to travel with you, to repay my debt, you can find me here."

A slight smile touched her lips. "You haven't seen the last of us. Good night, Fenris." 

She waved, and they were off. He shook his head and went inside.

 

* * *

 

     Fenris spent most of the night wandering the mansion, examining every haphazardly stacked crate and box. He found nothing to indicate danger, just ridiculously opulent furniture and clothing. To no great surprise, the wine cellar was well stocked, with bottles from every nation in Thedas. He resolved to drink something the following evening—for now, he needed to keep his wits about himself, in case any stragglers returned.

     At last, when he was satisfied that there were no spies or traps, he dragged some blankets up to the main sleeping chamber. Kindling was easy enough to make, and soon a small blaze crackled merrily in the fireplace. He pushed the blankets into a pile, set his weapons carefully within reach, and removed his chest piece and bracers before sinking onto the blankets with a sigh. With Danarius alive, lingering too long in Kirkwall was out of the question—but for now, this would be good enough. The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was a songbird greeting the oncoming dawn.

 

\---- **Hawke** \---- 

     Adrenaline still pumping through her veins from the night's events, Hawke tread as lightly as she could to the small water basin in order to rid herself of the dirt and dried blood stuck to her skin. As careful as she tried to be, the creaking of the old wooden floor woke her sister Bethany. Hawke mouthed a silent "sorry" as she gingerly stripped her gear, wrist-guards, and blades. 

 

Bethany playfully pinched her nose in Hawke's direction and indicated that she reeked from the outdoors as she gathered wood to heat up her sister's bath water.

Looking over at her sister, Hawke was filled with compassion and a slight hint of pity.

 

_This is why I fight...so people like Bethany can remain free..._ She thought, walking over to Bethany when she signaled that the bath was warm enough.

 

     The sound of water splashing around the basin relaxed Hawke, and she sighed deeply. Bethany took the sponge from her sister's hand, and proceeded to wash her back, carefully running the warm water over any new cuts or scrapes. 

"You seem awfully quiet..." Bethany whispered, her Feraldan accent thick in her words.

Hawke snapped out of the daze she seemed to be in and sighed softly as she said, "The night was...not what I had expected..."

Worry strained Bethany's kind face. "Is everything all right? What happened...?" 

Turning to get a better look at her sister, Bethany thought she noticed Elanna turning pink. Or perhaps the dim lights in the house were playing tricks on her eyes this late at night.

 

"Let's just say that the 'goods' we acquired tonight turned out to be very good indeed..."

* * *

 

     Lying on her back and staring into the darkness, Hawk's mind drifted back to the elven slave, Fenris. 

_I wonder what he is doing now? That old mansion is probably covered in blood...and what about clothes...and food? He looks like he doesn't even eat a decent meal everyday..._  

A smile tugged at her lips as she rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.

     The next morning came all too early for Hawke, but she managed to wake herself up before any of her family rose, and went into the tiny washroom to freshen up.

 

"Ugh, why do I always have the worst case of bed hair in the morning?"

She sighed to herself as she dragged her brush through her long locks, putting up her hair in her favorite style out of her face by means of a french braided up-do. Brushing her bangs smooth, Hawke entered into the kitchen area and got the baking flour out. 

"Baking bread so early in the morning, Elanna?" Mother said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, and startling Hawke.

"Oh, I um...thought I'd bake the bread this morning...and pick up some fruit at the Lowtown Market since I got paid yesterday..." 

"And...?" her mother said, seeing right through her daughter's nervousness. She waited patiently for her to respond. 

Fidgeting under her mother's discerning gaze, Hawke gave in.

"Well, Mother, it's like this...do you remember the 'job' I said I had yesterday...?"

 

* * *

 

"Oh, I had no idea...oh that poor boy..." Mother said after Hawke relayed the previous night's events, minus all of the literal gory details.

There was a pause in the room as both mother and daughter pondered their thoughts.

"Well, this just won't do at all...Elanna, after you bake the bread, take a loaf with you when you visit Fenris today. Some fruit,too, like you said...oh, and some cheese...I wonder what kind he likes..." 

Hawke smiled in spite of herself.

 

_Mother is always so understanding...most people would have not had one ounce of the compassion she has once they knew he was an escaped elf slave..._

 

"Oh dear... I wonder what he would want to drink..." Hawk was interrupted by her mother's fussing over her new acquaintance. 

 

Stuffing a small cloth bag with the now baked bread, two kinds of cheeses, an apple, and a jug filled with water, Hawk's mother handed her the bag, a smile tugging slightly on the corners of her lips as she bid her daughter a safe trip. 

     The morning air rushed up to meet Hawke as she opened the door. Shivering slightly, she tugged the corners of a robe she borrowed from Bethany as she made her way down the winding roads until she reached the old mansion where Fenris was staying.

She hesitated. _Why am I feeling...apprehensive about seeing him again...? We just met last night...._

Pushing the nagging feeling aside, she swallowed and knocked softly on the door.

No answer. Looking up, Hawke noticed the curtains billowing in front of an open window.

_Maybe he left...after all that bloodshed and killing last night, I'm amazed he'd still even consider staying here._

 

Hawke was jolted back into the present as the hair on the back of her neck began to stand up. Someone was watching her. 

Silently, Hawke reached around and grabbed one of the small throwing knives she always carried with her in case of an emergency.

_Maybe that man...Fenris's former master...came back last night after we left...maybe he's still inside..._

 

     Without waiting for a response any longer, Hawke tried to bust through the door. But, someone else, at that exact moment opened the door, the flash of steel and blade shined in the early morning sun. Hawke was thrust inside the mansion by the strong arms of someone clearly a fighter. From years of training at her father's side, Hawke was an expert of escaping potential threats. Slipping out from underneath the unknown man's arms, Hawke brought up the throwing knife between her fingers as she pointed it at the man's throat in a motion almost to swift to see.

 

"Danarius!"

 

"Mage!"


	3. Breakfast, Maps, and Intrigue

\---- **Fenris** \----

 

     Hawk had a blade to her neck as well, but that was not what made her gasp. There was Fenris, the markings on his flesh burning a bright blue with a face filled with rage and anger as he growled his greeting. She blinked in confusion, mouth slightly open at the suddenness of again being so close to Fenris's face. 

Fenris' face softened slightly as he recognized Hawke's blazing green eyes from under her hood. The lyrium scars on his body began to ache, as they so often did each time he was filled with such emotion.  

 

"Hawke? Why are you dressed like...like _that_..." Fenris released her from his iron grip, flexing his still stiff fingers.

 

Slipping the throwing knife underneath one of her sleeves, Hawke stepped back and tried to catch her breath. A smirk crossed her face. "It's 6 o' clock in the morning Fenris, and it's blighted freezing outside so excuse me for not wanting to catch a cold."

 

Fenris could feel himself slowly smiling, even if he himself dare not wish to admit it. Collecting himself, he bowed deeply, a hand across his chest.

 

"You have my apologies. I just thought...perhaps...you were another slave-hunter..."

Looking up from his bowed position, Fenris thought he saw the woman's ears had turned a slight shade of pink as she fiddled with the small sack she was carrying.

"Please, do not bow for me, Fenris. I just brought you some breakfast is all..."

_What? Why would she do that...I can take care of..._

Fenris heard Hawke laugh softly as he felt his own stomach growling.

"Ah, seems I am a bit..."

"Famished?" Hawke contended as he led her into the large room that was originally meant to be a kind of entertaining room for guests.

Tentatively receiving the bag from Hawke, Fenris led her up the stairs to where he had started a small fire in the main room.

"I like the stained glass windows...they seem so 'you'." Hawke commented slyly as she sat down on a bench near the fireplace. 

_What does that mean...it's 'so me'? She says it like it's a bad thing..._

 

     Opening the cloth sack Hawke had given him, the warm, sweet smells of freshly baked bread engulfed his senses. Just the smell of the bread made his mouth water. 

"Please, eat. You'll have to let me know what you think of the bread."

_She's leaving?_ _Should I just let her go?_ Oddly, he didn't want her to leave. "You're probably busy, but would you like to stay for a while?" he asked. 

 

Hawke tried not to smile too broadly at the request. "Sure." She nodded.

Fenris tore into the warm loaf with his teeth, marveling at the taste. "Thank you for the bread, it's very good."

 

"You have my mother to thank for that. I learned how to bake her specialty breads when I was a little girl."

 

_She baked this?…well, she certainly doesn't seem the type..._ Fenris thought, trying to imagine Hawke with an apron wrapped around her rogue's gear. Feeling the silence in the room, he attempted to fill it.

 

"Your family is from Kirkwall?"

"My parents are from Kirkwall, but they left and settled in Ferelden a few years before the Blight. The first fourteen years of my life were spent running from Templars, training underground as a rogue with my father. My sister, Bethany, and Carver trained as mages when they were old enough. My father died a few years before the Blight."

Questions overwhelmed him; he began with the most obvious. "Your Father raised your sister and brother to to be apostates?"

"He did." Elanna studied the back of her palms. "Sometimes I wish things were different…it's like, I'm always on edge, always expecting Templars at every turn and at the end of every alley. I know it's foolish, but I just wish I had been given another option…"

Fenris stared at the stark white scars on his arm, watching them rise and fall as he rotated his hand. "We don't always get a choice."

He could feel her gaze on his face. "If it's not too rude, may I ask—"

"My markings? It is lyrium, burned into my flesh and bone by my master. They give me extreme power and speed, and as you saw last night, I can reach into a man's body and do whatever I wish to kill him." He looked up, expecting to see envy or greed, but instead sadness filled her eyes.

"I had no idea—I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how terrible that must have been."

"I have no memory of my life before the marking ritual took place. If I have family, they were not mentioned to me. All I knew was how to serve Danarius."

"Then I'm glad you were able to escape, and I'm sorry we couldn't kill him last night."

"As am I." He set the bag aside; his hunger pains gone. "So you are not a mage?"

"No...I...my brother, Carver and my sister Bethany are both mages..." She grew sad, but did not elaborate; instead she stood, holding one hand out to Fenris. "I'm due to join up with Varric at the Hanged Man, if you'd like to come. Varric has something he wants my help with, and you look like you could use the company."

He stood, considering her offer. "I don't want to be a burden."

"Oh, please. You handle a sword well, and you know how to defend yourself. Besides, you wouldn't believe the amount of trouble we run into on a daily basis." She smiled. "Besides, what are you going to do here all day by yourself? Bake muffins?"

"A fair point," he admitted, allowing himself to smile in return. "Lead on."

 

     Hawke spoke only a few words on their way down to Lowtown, but Fenris took no offense. He was comfortable with silence, a trait that she clearly shared. They found Varric  playing cards in the Hanged Man. Varric's face lit up as they approached.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Fenris! I think you'll agree that living above a tavern has certain advantages."

"It's fine if you don't mind the foul odors in every corner" Hawke quipped. "Not that my uncle's place is a castle, mind you. Who knows what he's got stashed away in those old closets of his?"

"Moldy cheese is my guess." Varric grinned at Fenris. "Count yourself lucky that you haven't had to smell it yet. You wouldn't wanna' eat for a week, at least, and I don't think your body would hold up any longer if you skipped any more meals, judging from the way _you_ look." Fenris frowned downward, not seeing anything amiss. "This is how I always look."

"Don't let my mother see you, then, or you'll spend every waking moment with food in your mouth." Hawke laughed. "So, Varric, what mad scheme do you have planned for us today?"

"We still need those maps I told you about. We could go looking for that Grey Warden and see if he'll help us."

"Maps?" Fenris glanced at Hawke. "What sort of maps?" 

"Our lovely Hawke here has so generously donated her time and money to help fund a lucrative expedition into the Deep Roads." Varric said, grinning as he looked up at his rogue friend. 

"More like a gamble, if you ask me..." Hawke responded, comfortable with returning Varric's wit with style.

"I see. I am at your disposal Hawke, until my debt to you is paid..."

"Loosen up, elf, she's no Queen of Kirkwall." Varric laughed, a deep rumbling that made his entire small stature shake.

"Varric's right, Fenris. If you claim to be a free elf, then no more of this bowing and formal talk, got it?"

Fenris laughed awkwardly, looking away.

 

* * *

 

"Hey Elf, you comin' or what?"

A few long strides were all it took for Fenris to catch up with the rest of the group. He noticed one less person than the night before.

"Where is your friend...I believe her name is Aveline, today?"

Hawke headed for the exit. "Oh, she had early guard duty. She joined up when we got to Kirkwall, about a year ago, since being a thief didn't sit well with her. I can't blame her; it would be a little odd for a former officer in the King's army to run around with, ah, less-than-desirable types."

"Indeed. So, you have been living in the city for a year you said?" 

"Yes, hard to believe it was just last year when..." Hawke murmured something Fenris could not hear. Coughing nervously, she turned to him. "Have you been in Kirkwall long, Fenris?"

"Not long."

"Where have you been staying all this time?"

He shrugged, uncomfortable in the face of her sudden questions. "Here and there."

"Fair enough." She clearly sensed his reluctance to talk, and to her credit, didn't seem interested in prying. "Varric, where are we going?"

"We're starting in Lirene's shop—you know, the one who's taking donations."

 

     Darktown, like everywhere else in Kirkwall, was appropriately named. For all Fenris could see, they were underground, though Varric assured him that technically, the sewers lay further below. 

"Hawke! I think this is the place!" Varric called, poking his head back around a corner. "Ready for some fun?"

"Right behind you, Varric." She rounded the corner and looked up a short flight of stairs. "Those would appear to be lanterns. Lit ones."

"Yes, they would...just as the donation's woman said there would be. Let's hope he's inside."

  _Let's hope_ who _is inside, exactly?_

\---- **Hawke** \----

     The clinic was a large space, probably a repurposed warehouse, with sawdust strewn all over the floor. A small group of people huddled over one of the few waist-high tables. A man stood, performing some sort of magic. He finished, collecting a small blue orb of energy from the air, then banishing it. The patient and his family left, leaving Hawke to face the healer.

He spun on them, clutching his staff. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Are you Anders?" Hawke gestured to Varric. "My friend told us you might be able to help us. We need to go into the Deep Roads, and I heard you might have maps."

"I might, at that. What makes you think I would have them?"

_This guy seems....off...I wish we didn't need him so badly for those maps..._ Hawke thought to herself.

 

"As a Grey Warden, you'd have knowledge others wouldn't." She finally replied.

He laughed ruefully. "Former Grey Warden. I quit. Or, if you prefer, I ran away. We had…irreconcilable differences."

Hawke examined his face carefully for any sign of deception. Although he appeared cordial and charming on the outside, she could not shake the strange feeling she felt by being near him. It was as if she were talking to a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

"Fine. You want my help, you are going to have to do something in exchange for my services by providing a service of your own."

 

Fenris flexed his hand into a fist. _Careful what you say, Mage..._

 

Surprised by the rapid surge of anger that welled up inside of him at the thought of what the Grey Warden's request of Hawke would be, all Fenris could do was cross his arms in front of his chest and scowl at the man before him. 

Hawke meanwhile, accepted Ander's request to help out his mage friend at night fall in return for the maps and the possibility of added protection from an experienced healer-mage.

     Leaving Anders' clinic, Hawke glanced over at Fenris, who seemed to have something weighing on his mind, but she dare not pry. It didn't seem to Hawke that Fenris would appreciate a nosy woman in his business.

Verric cut into her thoughts. "So, any plans for this afternoon?"

"I have to return an amulet to the Dalish camp on Sundermount. If either of you want to come along, you're welcome to."

"Sounds like fun to me. Fenris?"

"Well—I didn't have any plans—"

"Then come with us," Varric interrupted. "No need for you to sit and brood all day in that moldy old house. Besides, we might make some money. Everyone likes money."

"I wouldn't brood."

"Elf, I've known you a day, and I can already tell: you're a brooder. Don't worry, girls like that. They'll think you're mysterious and troubled, and they'll spend all their time begging to hear about your dark, tormented past. They'll gaze at you with soft eyes, tell you that you're such a brave soul, and then write your name with little hearts around it in their journals."

"That sounds terrible." Out of the corner of one eye, he saw Hawke's face turning pink. 

"Stay in this city, and you'll be knee-deep in adoring fans. I promise it." Varric laughed. "It's about time someone other than me had the girls of Kirkwall a-twitter."

"Well then, come on," Hawke said, hasty to change the subject. "We've got elves to meet, and I want to see if Aveline can come."

 

* * *

 

 

     The atmosphere as they left the Chantry was awkward. Hawke was furious with Anders for killing his friend and risking capture by the Templars. Anders reached out to touch her arm, attempting to soothe her even as Karl's blood dried on his hands; Hawke recoiled in disgust and, in her exhaustion, nearly fell down the Chantry steps. Before she could cry out, Fenris reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close enough to smell the light lavender perfume of her hair once more. Hawke gasped, clutching his hand in hers, blinking in confusion.

"Are you all right?" she asked, releasing him slowly. "Did I hurt you?"

His markings ached where she had touched him, as if she had thrust hot needles into them, but he shrugged her concern aside. "I'm fine, but I'm afraid I can't say the same for you."

She touched her face carefully, then shook her head. "No, no I'm fine. I just... moved too quickly and got light-headed, I suppose."

Fenris had a hard time believing that a rogue, someone trained in the stealth arts, would ever feel faint from "moving too quickly", but he refrained from comment. 

"I think it's been a long day for all of us. Let's go back and get some rest. Hawke, Varric, Fenris....Anders. I bid you farewell for now." Aveline said as she retreated into a side street and back to her residence with the Guards.

Hawke, still reeling from the ordeal with Anders and his so-called friend, watched Anders slink off into a back alley.

"No doubt on his way back to that 'clinic' of his... as if treating a rash on some patient will excuse him from what he did back there... _disgusting_..."

Fenris, looking at Hawke as her eyes followed Anders until he was out of sight, oddly intrigued by the genuine anger ablaze in her deep green eyes. 

* * *

 

     Hawke couldn't believe the day she was having. Most importantly, she couldn't believe that Anders, a self-proclaimed healer and helper of mages, could so willingly kill his friend. But, that was all over now, and there was only Fenris left by her side. 

"Um... I could walk you back to your mansion, if you'd like Fenris. I have to pick up some sewing thread and a new needle to mend my leather wear...didn't think I'd wear mine out so quickly, actually."

Hawke laughed as she tugged at the corner of her ear.

_Why does she seem nervous around me? Must be the lyrium imbedded in my skin...they must frighten her..._

 

"I wouldn't want to..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you don't want to be a burden." Hawke finished for him. "Actually, there's something I've been wanting to ask you all day, but things kept coming up..."

The earnest look in Hawke's eyes unsettled Fenris for a moment. Although he was used to requests---more like demands---from his former master, Danarius, he was not expecting them from Hawke. She immediately noticed him stiffen up.

"No no, it's nothing serious or even important, really." Hawke waved her hands in front of her face. "I need..."

Fenris looked at her expectedly. "Yes?"

 

"Practice."

 

Fenris blinked, unsure how to take the comment.


	4. Of Knives and Melodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 4! The melody I imagined Hawke playing is a cover of the song "Lux Aeterna" (Requiem for a Dream theme) played on a harp with her improvising the words to fit her mood. Voice modeled after Aoi Teshima

"Fighting practice. If we are going to go on this expedition of Varric's, then I need to get stronger, I need to get faster."

A frown deepened on Fenris's face as he took a step away from her.

"So, when it comes down to it, you are no better than anyone else in this world. Hungry for power." His scowl hardened, darkening his face.

Hawke stepped further away from Fenris, her ears burning slightly as she could feel her anger starting to warm her cheeks.

"You know, not everyone is hungry for power like your dog of a master Danarius was, Fenris."

 She turned her back to him.

"If only I had been faster, then Carver...Carver would..." She cut herself off and fell silent, he arms hanging tiredly by her side.

_That boy she keeps mentioning...Carver...something must have happened to fill her eyes with so much pain and sadness when she speaks of him..._

 

Fenris cleared his throat. "I--am sorry. I was too quick to judge your situation."

Hawke slightly turned her head, acknowledging she heard his apology.

Fenris shifted, resting himself up again a nearby wall. "What makes you think I'd be a suitable sparring partner for you? The lyrium burned onto me provides me with power you could never have---which is why Danarius did it in the first place. You can't match my skill."

"Oh yeah? Well, I may not have been a rogue for very long before Father died, but I did get a knife to your throat this morning. Or did you forget our little tete-a-tete?"

The soft tone in Hawke's voice made Fenris look up in curiosity.

 

_Good, I'm glad that distracted her...I'd much rather have her focusing on anywhere but that sadness she feels so profoundly.._

 

"Very well. I'd be honored to spar with you."

Smiling unabashed, Fenris saw the usually cool and collected Hawke looking more like a vibrant youth---A young woman, rather.

"Fenris, Fenris? What are you staring at?"

Pretending to have caught a cough, Fenris turn away from her so she would not see his face turn a soft shade of pink.

_Maker, help me...I hope she does not think how foolish I am acting now..._

* * *

 

     Hawke, for her part, was overjoyed when Fenris said he'd help her practice fighting to hone her skills.

_If I can keep up with only half of Fenris's speed, then I can be quick enough for anything that comes my way...If only I had been quick enough while fleeing the Darkspawn, then maybe Carver would still be alive..._

 

     Rotating her shoulders as if trying to rid herself of the bad memory from her past, Hawke trotted up to catch Fenris as he made his way up to Hightown to where his mansion was located. Set on a beautiful piece of large land, the two companions made their way around the back of the estate. The cobblestone evidence of Hightown's upper class status faded away as Fenris and Hawke entered into a medium sized courtyard, green winding plants wrapping their tendrils along the light colored rock that made up the mansions structure. Steps leading up to the back entrance of the main house circled the yard, providing excellent footing for arial techniques.

     Eyes scanning the scene before her, Hawke nodded in approval as she began to ready herself for their mock battle. Fenris walked several meters away from her, standing under the shade of the only tree within the courtyard's confinements. The sun was now like a shimmering orange globe in the horizon, the clouds displaying similar shades of orange tinged with flecks of purple. 

_The sun is already setting... I can't believe I haven't been back here since the early morning..._

 

Knocking the dust off of her boots, Hawke called over to Fenris. "I'm ready when you are."

Unable to resist, he baited her further. "Courtesy demands that the woman should make the first move."

Her smirk made Fenris blink a second too long. When he looked again, there was a smoke plume where Hawe's body had been, but no sign of her on the ground. 

_She's... fast..._

 

Darting his eyes around, unwilling to give into a panicked search, Fenris closed his eyes, and listened. Feeling a breeze flow from behind him carrying with it the sweet scent he had smelled before, Fenris turned around to block the oncoming attack from Hawke. He met with a phantom technique however, as his blade slashed the empty air around him.

"Don't you dare take it easy on me..."

The whisper appeared to be speaking into Fenris's very mind. His senses seemed to dull somewhat as he could feel the end of one of Hawk's throwing knives sticking at the small of his back.

Jumping back with the skill and grace of a gazelle, Hawke returned to her starting position.

"Round's to you, Hawke." Fenris called, genuinely impressed at her speed and skill without the use of magic or magical aides.

Hawke kicked the ground hard beneath her. 

"You're not even trying, so I don't need your sympathy points..."

Fenris looked again at Hawke, sensing the distress in her voice and the same look of anger mixed with guilt on her face.

"I...I would not wish to kill you...otherwise you'd already be dead."

"Then go ahead, _try_!" Hawke, yelling louder than she intended to, knew she was losing her grip on her emotions. 

_I've got to show him I'm just as fast and just as strong as he is..._

 

Fenris, taken completely by surprise by Hawke's sudden outburst, had a hard time keeping up with her swift movements as she ran along the courtyard wall, blades unsheathed.

"Fight back, damnit!" Jumping down, blades aimed at the center of the elf's chest, Hawke was in a prime position to do serious damage to Fenris.

"No, Hawke, stop...you aren't fighting with reason..."

But, Fenris's warning fell on deaf ears. Hawke continued to lash out at Fenris, seeming to gain speed and momentum with every swing of her blades.

"I…deserve…to die for what happened to Carter…"

Fenris jumped back to avoid getting hit by Hawke's oncoming assult, but as soon as he did so, Hawke threw a knife with deadly accuracy. Instinct kicked in, and Fenris could feel his markings start to glow as the world around him slowed to almost a stand-still

"Wha--? Where..." Before she could even take a full breath, Fenris appeared behind her, the throwing knife dangerously close to her neck. raising Hawke's neck with one hand while pressing the blade against her throat, Fenris had a death grip on his victim.

 

     The two stood there for a while, frozen as victor and victim as the wind seemed to hum through the leaves in the trees. Hawke could hear Fenris breathing, like the low growl of a menacing wolf.

Suddenly realizing the situation, Fenris loosened his grip on Hawke slightly, not without noticing the long lines of her neck before doing so.

Then he saw her face. Dropping both blades at her feet, Hawke felt her knees get heavy. She tried to fight it, but the emotion that had been trapped inside since she had left her childhood home came bubbling to the surface, refusing to be confined. Closing her eyes, she felt a single tear fall from her face.

Startled, Fenris released Hawke from his grasp, watching her crumble to the ground at his feet. 

"Did I injure you? I'm so..."

"No... not it's not that." Hawke interrupted, barely above a whisper as she pounded the ground with her fist.

"I...I'm too weak...too slow to ever match you...just like I was too slow to save...my own brother..."

 

     Fenris looked down at the woman at his feet. Running his fingers through his hair, feeling his ears burn, he shifted as he bent to extend his hand out to his companion.

"I am not in the best place to offer you forgiveness from your past. Only you can do that. Do that by honoring your brother's memory."

He could see no more tears on her face, but when he took her hand, he could feel her quivering slightly. Looking down, Fenris was puzzled by the sensation running along the markings on his hand. Instead of feeling a searing pain when she touched him, he felt---cold---as if someone had thrown him into the iciest lake in Tevinter. He felt---cool _relief_.

"Oh..." Fenris studied Hawke's hand in his as she slowly got to her feet.

"What...?"

"I think... no, nevermind." Fenris claimed, taking one last look at Hawke's hand to see where the the coldness came from.

 

     Fenris had a sudden urge to test out a theory, but he decided against it. Best not to let Hawke think him foolish.

"I should escort you home, Hawke. You're in  no condition to wander Lowtown on your own."

"I can take care of myself..." came her reply, but her words were empty of anger. Sighing, Hawke walked around towards the front of Fenris's mansion, as Fenris himself brought up the rear, careful to give her air.

The door to Hawke's uncle's small home opened just as quickly as they set foot on the first step. 

"Maker, where have you been? I was expecting you around dinner time, and now the food's..."

Hawke silently brushed passed her mother, leaving the upset woman face to face with Fenris. Noticing her staring at his markings, Fenris bowed slightly. "Madam, I must take my leave..."

"Fenris, isn't it? My daughter's spoken of you."

"Ah." A familar pain creeping into Fenris's head as he rubbed his temples with an armored hand.

"That I am an escaped elf of a Tevinter magistrate named Danarius, and..."

"No, actually, she told me how bravely you fought against those who wronged you, how you live up in that big mansion all alone, and how you're...." Hawke's mother smiled. Fenris could clearly see the resemblance, but there was an aura of reserve different from her daughter's. Hawke's mother covered her mouth delicately.

"Well, that is for another day, I suppose." Looking back into the small house, concern filled her light eyes and she glanced back up at Fenris.

"She looks like she's been through another Blight...what on earth..."

"Carver..." was all Fenris could manage to say.

Understanding washed over her face.

"Poor child, she still blames herself, and yet refuses to let anyone help her, let alone see how much pain she carries on her shoulders."

"You're daughter is much stronger than she gives herself credit." Fenris surprised himself by interjecting so tersely.

Fenris was rewarded with a small curtsy, adding to Hawke's mother's eminent elegance. 

     His ears twitched as an unknown melody floated into his hearing. Someone was singing as she played what sounded like a harp. The song was soothing and calmed his entire being. Hawke's mother merely smiled again, gesturing to the back room. Another woman appeared from the kitchen, a mage's staff at her back. Her hair was much shorter than her sister Hawke's, but she had a soft round face that said she was innocent, and full lips indicating she was sensitive. The younger woman seemed to take no mind the to silver-haired elf standing in their main doorway.

"What's wrong with Elanna, Mother? She only sings that song when she is upset..."

"That's _Hawke_?" The words spilled out of Fenris before he was able to contain himself. The woman looked at him, and her face lit up in recognition, although Fenris could not guess why. They had never met before.

"Fenris, what an honor it truly is. I am Elanna's sister, Bethany."

"The mage?"

 Fear flashed momentarily before her eyes, but was replaced with the sweetest smile Fenris had ever held sight to. Straightening up, he put an arm across his chest in a kind of solute.

"Forgive me madam, for I spoke out of curiousity, not spite..." He lied. "Your sister speaks highly of you."

The two women proceeded to speak in the archway, but Fenris was only partially listening. He couldn't believe Hawke could actually play so beautifully eloquent.

_She is surprising, I'll give her that._


	5. Under the Shade of a Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 5! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story so far. As always, I've changed some of the character portrayals to fit the story, and the character headings are meant to serve as a guide for the POV in a particular part of the story (but I still jump around POV a bit so I hope you don't mind!) Happy reading, and don't forget to review or give suggestions for the story!

     Leaning up against the door to the mansion until it creaked open, Fenris dragged himself inside and slumped down into an overstuffed red sitting chair. His eyes burned from weariness.

 

 _I need a bath..._ He thought to himself as he studied his hands.

 

Since his acquaintance with Hawke, Fenris found himself in the company of people more than he was accustomed to as Danarius' slave. People, Fenris thought, that actually had some sort of substance.

Old blood was still caked onto his armor from the company's bout with Karl and their adversaries the other day, and as Fenris flexed his knuckles, brownish-red flakes drifted onto the floor. Darkness seeped into the elf's eyes as he stared off into the bleak emptiness of his recently-acquired mansion.

_That degenerate mage...Anders...he is a viper I will have to watch carefully. If he so easily murdered his so-called 'friend', than it is only a matter of time before he turns on Hawke as well..._

 

Unwilling to let himself brood any longer (he was determined to prove Varric wrong about his tendency to do so), he set about the task of looking for things like towels and a sponge to clean off the day's wear on his body. Fenris' pointed ears twitched in slight amusement.

 

"On second thought..."

 

Fenris grabbed an armful of firewood, and sauntered up the stairs to the second floor. There, in one of the back rooms, was a formerly immaculate bathing room. Like every other room in the dilapidated mansion, the tiles were faded, chipped, or completely missing, and every surface had blanket of stale dust on it.

     At long last, he stripped off his armor and lowered himself into the stone basin up against one of the mansion's large viewing windows which he filled with heated water. A sigh escaped his lips as he relaxed, resting his arms on the tub's edge. He smiled as he watched the hot steam drift up towards the ceiling, the novelty of soaking his entire body had been too great for him to ignore. Lazily, he drew patterns in the water, watching the little ripples and eddies left by his trailing fingers. His muscles loosened slowly as he sighed in relaxion. He had prepared baths for Danarius for rituals or Senate meetings or other, less savory business, but such a luxury had never been made available to a slave.

     Methodically, he scrubbed every inch of his skin, searching for major cuts or scrapes that might need to be taken care of, but to his surprise, he had sustained only minor injuries and a few tender bruises. Carefully, he rose from the tub, drying himself with one of the towels he had found nearby. His armor could wait to be cleaned until morning. Before heading upstairs, he opened the small drain latch on the side of the basin, letting the filthy water drain into a hole in the center of the room.

_Tomorrow, at the market, I should pick up some soap as well as some food stuffs to repay Hawke for the wonderful breakfast_ , he thought, then shook his head in amazement.

_No. I'm only staying long enough to pay back my debt to her, and then I'm going somewhere safer._

 

     Fenris draped a blanket around his shoulders, then settled before his little fire, removing a hunk of cheese and an apple from Hawke's bag. He ate slowly, replaying the day's events in his mind. Despite the risks, Hawke seemed to be collecting mages from all over the territory. The Dalish girl seemed sweet and charming, but the fact that she so readily uses blood magic was of no small concern to Fenris. She would be dangerous.

     And yet, Fenris had to admit that Hawke showed every outward sign of disapproval that night in the Chantry. She'd even begged Anders to spare his friend, to let the man go back to the Circle with his life intact. Naturally, Anders had ignored her. And then there was the dwarf, Varric, and the coffee-skinned pirate, Isabella. Fenris stifled a small laugh, at least those two were as talented at fighting as they were at telling jokes.

     He fed the fire, watching the light dance over his skin, his smile fading once again. Perhaps Danarius was right: Was he really free? Would he ever escape the fate of his markings? Danarius was powerful, and his touch had elicited many sensations---fear, revulsion, despair---but Fenris's markings had never reacted the way they did earlier with Hawke. If nothing else at all, Fenris wished to learn more about her effect on him.

     He awoke late the next day. With a groan, he rolled out of bed, pulling a blanket loosely around his hips before heading downstairs. He drew fresh water into a bucket, sat down with a rag, and began the process of cleaning his armor. It could have been the work of mere minutes, but Fenris was thorough, wiping every last trace of dried blood and dirt from the leather. When finished, he set it aside to dry while he dug through the abandoned chests in search of suitable clothes

Fenris had taken more time than he'd thought; the Chantry bells were tolling for the mid-morning services.

"Now's as good a time as any to go into the Lowtown Market." he concluded, taking Hawke's bag from yesterday's breakfast with the intent of returning it later that day.

* * *

**::during this same time::**

* * *

**\----Hawke----**

     Aching in places she didn't know she had from yesterday's practice fight, Hawke got up uncommonly late. Her uncle had already left to "take care of some business", and her mother was at the Marketplace doing the day's shopping. Only Elanna and her sister remained.  
Wiping the grogginess from her eyes, Hawke shuffled into the kitchen area to find Bethany slicing bread for the morning meal. Seeing her older sister enter the room, Bethany beamed.

"I saw him last night, you know."

Any trace of sleepiness cleared from Hawke's head almost immediately.

"Saw who? You were out last night?"

"No" Bethany interrupted Hawke before she could pose any more questions. "The elf... you know...Fenris..."

Hawke looked at her sister questioningly. "Are you sure? He was only suppose to follow me around the corner from the house.."

"Oh yes, there was no mistaking it. He was deathly worried about you, I'm afraid, even if he wouldn't let on how upset he was at seeing you in the state you were in last night."

Hawke blinked.

_Impossible. Bethany must have mistaken his permanent brooding scowl as someone worrying about me._

 

Seeing the denial on her sister's face, Bethany continued. "He heard you singing."

"Oh...?" Hawke could feel herself flushing from embarrassment as Bethany giggled like a girl half her age.

"I knew it! You fancy him! Can't say I really blame you..."

"Bethany! Fenris is just..." Hawke thought back on the previous events of recent days. "A companion... just like Varric..."

     Although Bethany didn't pursue the matter any further, Hawke knew well that her sister could see right through any sort of lie she could possibly conjure up.  
Later that afternoon, Hawke was sitting in the small space outside of their home in order to mend her leather gear under direct sunlight.  
Smiling faintly at her reflection in her favorite blade, Hawke proceeded to re-dress herself with her wrist and arm guards. With her blades safely sheathed behind her, she sighed contently and took the opportunity to rest her tired eyes. After all, Varric said he wouldn't need her for another job until after dark.

* * *

**\----Fenris----**

"It's unwise to be so unguarded in broad daylight."

     Curling her fingers around her blade, Hawke loosened it instantly when she saw who was talking to her.  
Quickly she rose to greet Fenris, coming up to his shoulders as she looked up into his deep dark eyes.

"Good morning to you too, Fenris." Hawke retorted.

Remembering then the awkward events of the previous day, she looked down at her boots and tried to sum up some semblance of an apology for her rash actions.  
Fenris, suspecting the nature of her of sudden uneasiness, raised a single hand and gestured in a waving motion.

"If you thought I came here to seek an apology, then are you mistaken."  
Hawke lifted her eyes and met Fenris' with a small smile.

"Thanks. I thought surely after yesterday that..." Her voice trailed off.

"Everyone has their own poison inside them that they need to bleed out."

With that said, Fenris walked over to the doorstep and politely knocked until Bethany answered the door. Fenris said a few polite courtesies and handed Bethany the cloth satchel Hawke and brought him the other day.

Returning to Hawke's side, she noticed he was fully armored, with his massive warrior's sword at his back.

"Going somewhere?" Hawke inquired.

"When I agreed to help you train, what did you think? That we would only spar once and be done with it? You definitely need some improvement."

Hawke was taken aback: she didn't know whether to be insulted or happy that Fenris decided to help her.  
Reaching for his sword, Fenris swung it down until it caught the sunlight, nearly blinding Hawk and forcing her to take a few steps backward.

"As I thought." commented Fenris as he too stepped at a distance from Hawke.

"You are undoubtedly quick, and the rogue techniques you use are undoubtedly advanced, but you have little experience with hand-to-hand blade combat. Correct?"

Taking her prolonged silence as an unwillingness to outwardly acknowledge her faults, Fenris continued.

"During a battle, speed is not enough if, once you get close enough to your opponent, you do not have the will or determination to see a fight through to the very end. This is especially true if you do not catch your enemy by surprise, as you most often try to do to avoid actually fighting one on one."

Hawke folded her arms defensively.

_How is it he seems to know my entire battle strategy from a mere two-day acquaintance?_

 

Her annoyance was interrupted as Fenris stepped closer. Reaching behind Hawke, he unsheathed the blades strapped to her back.

Hawke inhaled deeply, able for the first time to engulf her senses with Fenris so dangerously close to her.

_He smells like pine trees, mint and something else... What is it? Whatever it is, it's nice..._

 

"I want to see you use the swords that you carry on your back," Fenris said, handing Hawke her weapons. Her eyes clouded over in defiance.

"I use them in every battle, I don't know what you're talking about..."

Stooping lower, Fenris grabbed the smoke bombs, throwing knives, and other small projectiles Hawke always carried with her.

Hawke stood there, suddenly unable to catch her breath.

 _He's so close... I wonder if his hair is as soft as it looks---_ She stopped herself before her hand acted of its own free will.

 

Fenris set the equipment off to the side.

"Now we fight. No special effects, no bombs, and as an added measure, we'll fight over there."  
Fenris pointed to the small courtyard.

"What's so different about fighting there? We practiced there yesterday."

Hawke frowned slightly as she walked over to the same spot. Fenris trailed a few steps behind her.

"Indeed we did. This time we will not fight in the clearing, we fight on the stone ledge in between those two columns"

Hawke stared.

"That's not even ten feet long, and half a foot wide---"

The elf jumped up onto the small stone beam, his large, body-sized sword held by his side.

"Exactly," came his reply. "You need to enhance your skills with those blades if ever you are in a cornered situation with no outlet."

Hawke sat down on the ledge at a distance from Fenris as she re-laced her boots. Using her two curved rogue's swords for support, Hawke pulled herself up in a fighter's position. The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the air as elf and girl clashed in combat.

* * *

"I think it's time now for a much needed break. Wouldn't you agree, Hawke?"

Hawke bent over panting, hands braced against her knees for support. She wiped the grimy dirt and sweat from her brow.

"I was ready for a break hours ago. You're a beast, Fenris, I don't know how anyone can keep up with that sort of stamina."

Hawke was pleasantly surprised when she was rewarded with one of Fenris' rare smirk-like smiles. Her heart fluttered.

"A beast? Hardly… you are the first woman… the first  _person_  to ever give me any sort of challenge in the area of combat. I relish the fact I am forced to always be my best around you."

Hawke stared down at the ground at her feet, hoping Fenris could not her smile.

Fenris whispered something under his breath in what sounded like another language. Hawke looked up curiously at the elf standing a short distance from her, running his hand over the stone ledge slowly. He quickly averted his gaze when their eyes met.

"What does that mean, what you just said?"

Fenris cleared his throat, his armor clanking softly as he shifted back and forth on his feet. For a while, he remained silent, and Hawke began to think he would not answer at all.

"It is the language of the Tevinter Imperium. it's a phrase which means 'you bring freshness to a stale air'…"

Hawke's blush deepened as she pretended to kick a nearby tree clumsily.

_What do I say, what in Maker's name do I say? Think of something witty..._

"I totally failed in foreign languages at school...this Tevinter language sounds hard, too..."

 

_Yeah…smooth Elanna…he probably thinks I am terribly awkward now…great…_

 

She made a mental note to practice her social skills with Bethany that night, a thought that had never crossed her mind before now.

Fenris looked pensive for a moment, studying his sword's reflection of the orange afternoon sky.

"Yes, I suppose it would be for someone unaccustomed to an archaic language."

     

     The silence between the two thickened, the air becoming charged with a forcefulness Fenris could not place. Throughout the entirety of his life, Fenris' range of emotion stemmed from anger, pain, or despair. The lightness he now felt in his heart was completely foreign to him; he had no idea how to deal with these new feelings creeping into his waking conscious. He took a deep breath in, trying to ease the tight nervousness he felt clenching his chest that was, for the first time, not induced by fear or anguish.

"Ahem...I'll fetch you some refreshments..."

"Fenris wait---"

Hawke cut herself short as Fenris was already at the mansion's entrance.

 

_There's no need to be serving people anymore..._

 

The elf emerged from the dark mansion mere moments later carrying what looked like a thick, wooden cutting block in one hand with slices of thin meats, cucumber, two large bread rolls, and a small bowl with a variety of nuts. In the other, Fenris held a large silver pitcher, most likely meant to be a flower vase, as well as two stone cups and matching plates. With ease and grace, he strode over to the woman waiting for him under the tree.

Hawke struggled to get up, but Fenris reached her before she could help with his load of food. Kneeling down automatically from years of repetitive action, he began arranging the food delicately in front of Hawke.

"I did not know what you liked, so I hope you'll find something palatable ..."

Hawke shook her head, somber at the sudden change of her new friend's demeanor.

"I'll eat anything, Fenris, I'm no noble."

Hawke surprised herself by offering a small wink to Fenris. He lips turned upward in return.

"But, if you must know, my favorite, beyond favorite food is Ferelden Carya nuts. I can eat them everyday and never grow weary of them."

Seizing her chance while Fenris was listening to her, Hawke swiped a cup and the water pitcher.

Fenris looked at her, brows knit in confusion.

"This time, Fenris" Hawke began, kneeling on both knees before him and gesturing for him to pick up his water cup. "You will be the one  _served_ , not doing the  _serving_."

A look of surprise lined the elf's expression, but he remained silent as Hawke poured him a drink and filled his small plate with food. He stared at the food before him, wanting to say something, wanting to say  _anything_ , but all Fenris could manage to do was stare down at his fork as food was placed in front of him.

Hawke smiled, she didn't need Fenris to say "Thank you" to understand the look of utter gratitude on his face.

* * *

     After their lunch was happily consumed, Hawke rested her back against the large oak tree nearby, her eyes closed. Fenris, meanwhile, lay on his back, his hands folded behind his head as he gazed up at the blue sky. There was an easy silence between the two companions as they rested in their own way.

"Varric has another job for us early this evening, I assume?"

Hawke noticed Fenris' use of the term "us" instead of his usual inquiry involving only her plans, but chose not to comment.

"Yeah, another money-making scheme again today, I bet."

Quiet filled the scene again for a time. Fenris studied a cloud that looked like a mage's staff, and he ventured with a question he had been burning to ask.

"What do you think about the abomination...this  _Anders_  guy?"

Fenris tilted his head to glance over in her direction.

"Elanna?"

There sitting under the tree cradling her rogue swords was Hawke, sleeping peacefully.

Fenris rolled over on the soft grass and continued to gaze up at the clouds.

He would wake her when Varric needed them.


	6. Luna Lecem (Moonlight)

 

     Several weeks passed, and Hawke was beginning to see Kirkwall as her home. Although still living in her uncle's shack of a house, Bethany had informed her that there was indeed a chance that the Amell estate could be restored to her mother and their family. It was up to Hawke, now, to gather enough coin for their expedition into the Deep Roads which she did by completing side jobs with the help of Varric. What she didn't expect was her making so many friends in such a short period.

     Hawke never had many friends growing up in Ferelden with most of her entire family being apostate mages and constantly on the run. Fewer still were the people that Hawke felt she could really confide in, but that all seemed to change suddenly since having moved to Kirkwall. Merrill, the young Dalish girl, lived close to her own residence, and in the past few weeks, Hawke had grown fond of her sweet charm and child-like innocence, and spent several evening talking until the candles burned low in the elf's small home in the Alienage. Others shied away from her due to her use of blood-magic, but Hawke felt that she could be convinced to see that there was another way of helping her elfin kinfolk without such risks as making deals with demons.

     Isabella, the pirate captain, was Hawke's go-to woman whenever she felt the urge to be mischievous or spontaneous. With her daily anecdotes of the men she'd been with or the storms she'd conquered while sailing, Isabella and Hawke never ran out of stories to tell each other. Some found the pirate to be crass and too easy to bed, but Hawke could see that underneath her rough exterior, Isabella had a genuinely good heart.

     Aveline, the guard, was one of Hawke's first friends, and she could always count on her to be there when she needed her. If it wasn't for Aveline, Hawke may not have even made it to Kirkwall at all, so the two women had been close since both having arrived in the city together.

     Jobs had gotten more numerous, and Hawke had indeed saved up quite a bit of coin, but the constant battles and near-death experiences were becoming too often and too tiresome for her taste. Today Hawke travelled with Merrill and Isabella just outside of the city, as Varric and Fenris scouted the Wounded Coast, checking up on a lead on Danarius' whereabouts. Hawke had wanted to tag along with Fenris, but she was already under contract for another job during that time.

 

"You know what you need, Sweetheart?" Isabella commented after Hawke and Merrill finished exterminating an area of unwanted beasts terrorizing the locals.

"Coming from you, Izzy, I don't know if I wanna' hear it…"

"Oh, tell me then!" piped up Merrill, her face filled with glee. "Is it some sort of juicy news?"

"Of course it is, Kitten, when is anything I ever talk about  _not_  juicy?" She winked at Hawke seductively as only Isabella knew how to do---with everyone.

"Well, the other day, you talked about how you tied a man up naked just so you could steal his coin purse, and then there was that other time where you told me that---"

"Spare me the details, my heart can't handle it." Hawke said as she pretended to swoon onto Merril's shoulder. The two women giggled like young girls.

Isabella pinched the elf's cheek playfully.

"What I was telling our Hawke here was that she needs to get out of those stinking boots, belts, and bracers for once in her life and have some  _fun_."

Hawke snorted in laughter.

"I'm sure your definition of fun is quite a bit different than mine."

"Quite the contrary, Love. I see the way you look at that piece of elf, Fenris. Admiring the nice view from behind, are we?"

Hawke nearly tripped on her own feet.

"What? I never...I haven't even looked... No of course not...!"

The more Hawke babbled on, the redder her face became.

"Oh look at Hawke's face! It's as red as the time when I spent the entire day out in the sun and couldn't move for week." Merrill frolicked around them, laughing (elves really did frolick, as Merrill herself told Varric one day).

"Oh thank the Maker, we've made it back to Hightown" Hawke said, running up ahead of her companions.

"Look, a shaved ice stall! Who likes shaved ice? I'll get us all one. My treat!"

"Shaved or not, I've had both." Isabella joked.

"Is it my imagination," Merrill said, turning to the pirate, "or is Hawke purposely avoiding our conversation about Fenris? I dunno' what she sees in him, I think he frowns so much that if he were to ever smile, I'm afraid his face would crack."

Isabella laughed, "Ah, Kitten, that's what makes  _him_  fun...and who doesn't like a bit of fun now and then?"

* * *

     Sitting down at one of the eating benches nearby, the three women enjoyed their strawberry flavored ice, a cool relief from the smoldering summer sun.

"Well girls, it's been a ball, but I've got other plans for this afternoon." Isabella said, slurping down the last of her drink.  
She licked her lips as she walked away.

"Oh Hawke, by the way, Varric told me to tell you to meet him in Lowtown by the potion's stall. Said something about a job he needed you to do."

Hawke grimaced.

"Ugh,  _another_  one? I can only do so much in a day, you know."

Rubbing a particularly sore shoulder, Hawke looked down at Merrill.

"You don't have to come if you're tired, but I wouldn't mind the company."

"I'll come along," Merrill said, her large eyes round with uncertainty. "Besides, if I'm not with you, I may get lost trying to find my way back to the Alienage with all these twists, turns, and dark corners. I don't know how anyone gets around."

Hawke nodded in understanding as she tried to hide a smile.

"I'm sure Varric and I can figure out something to help you out."

And with that, the two companions walked off to find the dwarf for their next assignment for the day.

* * *

     Following Varric, Hawke could not muster the energy to conjure up small talk as they wound their way through the alleys towards the Hanged Man. The sun set, and the Earth cooled slowly as evening fell. It was only her and Varric remaining: Aveline had guard duty at sunrise, and Merrill was too shy to be seen at the Hanged Man just yet. Fenris had declined to go out for "a night on the town" as he referred to it, and Hawke couldn't help but be slightly disappointed.

"It's times like this I thank the Maker I live above the Tavern. That way, I can drink to my heart's content and my room is only a few drunken steps away." Varric chuckled as he opened the door.

The usual smells of the tavern drenched her clothes, and made Hawke's nose crinkle until she grew accustomed of the smell of drunken men, stale beer, and tobacco.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite pirate, Isabella!" Varric said, drawing up a seat at a card table nearby as he motioned for Hawke to sit.

"Come join us, Lovely, the first round's on me!" Isabella chimed in, a shot of strong alcohol already in her hand.

Politely declining, Hawke separated herself from her companions at last and sat down at the small bar near the entrance where the air wasn't nearly so foul.

 

"I shit you not, Dwarf, it was  _huge_!" She heard Isabella saying loudly, indulging Varric in the start of what would become a night filled with outlandish stories and enough booze to make a dragon's head ache in the morning.

Ordering a large goblet of the strongest whiskey available, Hawke sighed wearily.

An older, bearded man with creased wrinkles carved into his face knocked her drink off of the bar counter. Instinctively, Hawke rushed to grab the goblet, its contents remaining unspilled.

She felt his eyes scanning her body.

"My my...as quick as you are beautiful. But where's that strapping lad with silver hair you use as a bodyguard? Such an exsquisite specimen like yourself should never be left alone."

Hawke wasn't surprised a complete stranger knew Fenris, his markings and weapon of choice appeared strange to most commoners in Kirkwall, and he was often stared at blatenly whenever he entered a room.

"Minding his own damn business, I assume. I suggest you do the same."

The man slowly traced a ringed finger around the rim of Hawke's wine chalice.

"Such bright green eyes, and yet skin just the right shade of milk-white to make any man thirsty..." The man slurred as he put his hand on Hawke's thigh with a smile that made Hawke's stomach flip.

She slapped his hand away, causing it to hit her goblet and have nearly spill onto the floor a second time.

"You touch me again, and you won't have a hand left." She spat.

"Fine girly, you win..."

     Stumbling over to meet his friends at a nearby table, the man sat down, playing a betting game with obsidian stones. Hawke meanwhile, was free to gulp down her own drink in silence, her mood soured. Paying the bartender quickly, Hawke exited the Hanged Man, without even telling Varric or Isabella goodbye.

The night air felt cool on her skin as Hawke began walking towards her family's home. But, after turning the first corner onto another back alley, Hawke began to feel unusually warm.

_By the Maker, when I told the barkeep to make my drink the strongest possible, he didn't kid around._

 

She continued to walk, but noticed her steps seemed to require more and more energy, as if there were weights tied to her ankles.

Dragging her eyes upward, Hawke realized that it was still early in the evening, and yet, it seemed her eyes were heavy. Staring at the sky, the face of the mage in the moon seemed to glare back at her with a twisted grin.

_I don't ever remember the moon looking like that...what an odd shade of purple..._

 

A group of men lurking in the shadows watched her fall under the moonlight.

 


	7. Moon Trance

\--- **Hawke** \---

     The last thing Hawke remembered was feeling hot, and suddenly very sleepy. The more she tried to concentrate, the fuzzier her vision seemed to become, until finally the darkness enveloped her conscious.  
The next memory she had was the sound of metal against chain. Her vision beginning to clear, and she realized she was hearing the sound of her own chain and shackles as she had been set on her back facing a blank ceiling. With each gulp of air into her lungs, Hawke regained more of her senses. She scanned her surroundings, fighting the urge to scream. There were no windows in the cramped room, but a patch of the ceiling seemed to be cut haphazardly to let the strange, purple light of moon shine directly onto her. It filled the room with an eerily dark ambiance.

Her night's clothes were sprawled messily over a chair at the far end of the room, and an archway glimmered slightly as if a wind's soft breeze were made visible.

_Magic_. She thought to herself as a lump of pure fear formed in her throat.  _They've magicked me in...Even if I did find a way out of these restraints, I don't have the kind of power to break the seal in the room. Oh Maker, help me..._

 

     Out of the corner of her mind's hearing, she knew people were approaching the room. Two hooded figures placed their palms on the magical barrier before them, and spoke a word of power that allowed them to enter the room.

"Nice of you to join us, serah."

The taller of the two figures spoke, voice deep and masculine.  
Hawke recognized the man's voice as the same one who had talked to her in the tavern moments earlier. She yanked at the chains that bound her, not liking the tone of yearning in the man's voice that oozed out of every word he spoke.

"My my, you were right, Danarius, she is quite a beauty. Andraste herself would be jealous."  
Hawke's eyes widened at the name.

_No...Maker no...not him... anyone, but him..._

 

"Ah, so you know of me, Rogue-child. No doubt my former pet has mentioned me to you, yes?"  
Panic momentarily replaced by anger filled Hawk'e eyes as she glared at Fenris' famed former master.

"Fenris is not your 'pet'." She hissed.

"Now now, no need to get angry, Love...if it wasn't for little Fenris escaping, I could not have found such a wonderful addition to my collection."

Eyes brimming with a mixture of greed, anger, and desire, Danarius continued,

"After all, Fenris was only my first attempt at creating the ultimate fighting weapon...but you...no, you will be much stronger, much more powerful. When I am done with you, you'll be perfect...you will be  _mine_."

At this point, Hawke desperate to free herself, pulled with all of her might to break the chains that bound her, but to no avail. The look in Danarius's eyes as he approached her made her head spin. Placing a large hand on the curves of her stomach, Hawke shivered with dread and cold that coursed throughout her entire being.

"Leave us."

The other mage accompanying him saluted his master and left the room.  
Feeling his eyes tracing the contours of her body, Hawke realized she was in merely a white gauze-like gown that fell to her ankles, her feet bare and her weapons stripped. Danarius leaned closer to her face, the reflection of her own fear shining through his thirst-filled eyes.

"Yes, yes, the ritual will grant me so much---pleasure---to perform on you tonight. Unlike Fenris before you, whom I used brute force to burn the lyrium into his flesh, I have found an 'alternative' way to make lyrium stick to the body as well as bind you to myself. Yes...yes...I will have no trouble keeping _you_ from escaping"

     Hawke turned away and shut her eyes as tight as she could, revolted as Danarius began to move his lips over the nape of her neck, his large, coarse hands lifting up her dress, exposing her thighs.  
Wild with panic, Hawke wished with all the Maker's power that this was just a bad nightmare.  
Danarius eased himself until he was hovering over her, a strange animalistic look in his eyes. The weight of his body on hers made it hard for her to breath, and the unfamiliar feeling of skin on skin contact had the hair on the back of her neck rise and her heart race uncontrollably until it hurt. Agony burned through Hawke's body, clenching her fists so hard they drew blood. She closed her eyes, the sound of Danarius's deep, heavy breathing frozen in her mind.

_It's just a dream...just a dream. I need to wake up. Shit it isn't working! Fenris help me please, FENRIS!_

 

She screamed in her head, having little faith he, or anyone, could hear her calling out.

* * *

\--- **Fenris** \---

   Aching with confusion and frustration. Fenris's rubbed his throbbing head. Running through the days events, his thoughts returned to Hawke once again. She was nothing like the Tevinters—she didn't desire power, she refused to consort with demons, and thus far she seemed kind and accepting. Fenris couldn't help himself. He felt a strange compulsion to stay in Kirkwall, to join Hawke and discover the depths of her sincerity. He owed her a debt, and her offer of help in killing Danarius had not yet been fulfilled. He saw no reason to turn help aside. Especially help with bewitching green eyes and an infectious smile. Rogue or no…Hawke was dangerously beautiful.

     Fenris's head continued to ache. Not ache specifically-more like an itch in the back of his mind which he could not rid himself of. Looking out of the window in his second story room that served as his bedroom, Fenris, gazed distractedly at the scars on his hands. Getting up, he walked over to the small fire, listening to it crackle and hiss at him ominously. It wasn't like him to be so---restless.

" _Venhedis_ … what is wrong with me..." Fenris said aloud to himself, silently pacing the floor.

_I feel like...I should be somewhere..._

 

Debating whether or not he had finally gone mad, he still could not shake the feeling of a distant dread. Hawke's face flashed before his mind's eye, which made Fenris even more worried.

"No, Hawke is fine...it is much too late to be worrying for her now...I really must be going---"

A soft, but impatient rapping came from the door downstairs. Darting downstairs, Fenris swung the door open, utterly unaware that it may have been a trap. Relief overcame him.

"Haw-"

Instead of the Hawke Fenris was expecting, he stood in front of an older woman, clad simply in what seemed like a hurried effort.  
Instead of her usual polite curtsies, Hawke's mother looked anxious.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Fenris, but is Elanna... could Elanna be with you?"

Startled by such a question, Fenris merely stared back at Alandra. Finally he spoke.

"I would not be able to forgive myself, Madam, if I had brought your daughter here so late in the evening."

To his surprise, Hawke's mother, rather than being relieved, looked even more panicked and disappointed.  
Alerted by her reaction, Fenris stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

"What has happened? Isn't Hawke at home?"

"N-no, I'm afraid she hasn't returned from her night's job that she was working on with Varric. But, if you're here...then..."

Fenris sighed slightly, releasing tension in his muscles.

"I do know that Varric and your daughter were heading over to the Hanged Man for a drink after the job. Perhaps, she purchased a room for the night to sleep off her, ah, inebriation, until the morning?"

"By the Maker, I hope you're right..."

Fenris hoped with all of his being that he was right, although the restlessness now grew into a sense of dread at the back of his throat.

* * *

"Why, hello again, Elf. What brings you to the Tavern so late at night? Finally wish to try the dwarven ale I've been raving about?"

Varric's smile faded instantly when he saw Fenris and Leandra's grim faces in the torchlight that illuminated the room.

"Hawke," Fenris started, leaning down to rest his hands on the table in front of Varric. "She was with you this evening, no? Is she in one of the rooms here?"

Varric looked towards the ceiling of his suite room, trying to recall a memory fogged by a night of drinking, card-playing, and insatiable flirting with the bar maids.

"It's all a bit fuzzy, but I do remember her leaving in a huff when..."

Seemingly coming to a conclusion he clearly wasn't sharing, Varric shook his head as he covered his face with his , feeling the marks on his skin starting to burn and ache, tried to keep his voice down.

"Tell us what happened."

Looking up at Fenris, Varric sighed wearily.

"There were men here... not the usual lot of drunkards... And they were... asking about an elf with silver hair... Shit, this isn't good."

Panic overwhelmed the entire group, paralyzing their minds.

"S'cuse me, Elf... I was to give you this if you were to come into the bar inquiring about a woman..."

Startled from his thoughts, Fenris focused his gaze to the barkeep wiping down glasses a ways away from him. Taking an unusually small black pouch from the man, Fenris turned it over, a single black stone falling into his palm.

Suddenly, as if a fire had been lit under him, the lyrium in Fenris's skin had burned the brightest Varric had ever seen, his eyes a shocking blue.

" _Fasta vass_! No no NO! It can't be!" Filling the Tavern with the sound of pure hatred, Fenris vanished, moving as quickly as thought.

The stone dropped to the floor, a white crest drawing scratched into the black obsidian. Varric turned over the stone, examining it carefully, before he comprehended what it all had meant.

Leandra, meanwhile, her face white with fear and confusion, uttered something under her breath that Varric couldn't hear. She cleared her throat, causing the dwarf to face the woman who was Hawk's mother.

"Varric, tell me my little girl is going to be okay? Tell me she won't be killed by whoever took her. Please..."

Varric, torn by the pleading gaze of Leandra, could not possibly look up to meet her eyes.

"I'm afraid that what could happen to your daughter would be worse than death itself."

* * *

_He will pay...I will kill him: rip out his heart and tear him from limb to limb and foul his ashes._  Fenris thought, his mind blinded by rage.

Stretching out his hand as he ran, he activated the lyrium on his body. The glow stemming from his hand reflected off of a similar glow in the corner of an alley.

_Bastard...you're using Hawke to get to me?! Leaving your blighted pebbles to guide my way, and force me to use the power you gave me?!_

 

Fenris could think of little else. He did not want to think what would happen to her if he was too late.

* * *

"There there, Paccipita...my Little Hawk, that wasn't so bad, now was it? I daresay, you quite enjoyed yourself at the end..."

Danarius eyed Hawke, reliving the recent moments as he adjusted his mage's robes back into their original position. Hawke, her gown bloodied, turned her face away, letting the tears fall freely from her face.

_The pain...make it go away...please, Maker let this be all over..._

 

"Now for Phase Two, my pet..."

     Smiling widely, he walked over to the other side of the room and picked up a heavy book with a crest emblem embedding at its carried the book over, setting it on a pedestal as he turned to face Hawke. Set on top of the pedestal were three small metal bowls: one containing a glowing red powder, one with a small purple nugget, and the last one with what looked like blue sand. Hawke didn't remember seeing the bowls there previously, and had no memory of seeing such ingredients before during her studies or during her sister's magic training.

"Wh-what are you doing? Wasn't it enough to have had your way with me?" Hawke spewed, angrily. Feeling the tears well up in her eyes again, she pleaded.

"Please...P-please Danarius...Let me go..."

The smile that curved on Danarius's lips frightened her.

"You'll thank me for this when I'm done..."

     Raising his hands towards the sky, Danarius began chanting in a language Hawke had only heard from Fenris.  
A black magical air spilled out from his hands and wrapped itself around the mage as he continued chanting. Danarius paused, and lifted his arms even higher. Hawke could feel her body moving without her willing, floating upwards until the shackles were free from slack. Suspended in mid-air, the only sound Hawke could comprehend was the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

Danarius continued again in Arcanum:

**"Light of the blood mage's moon, shine your power unto thee, piercing through flesh, winding like blazed thorns."**

 

Black dull markings began to swirl and crawl their way around Hawke's body like an intricate and delicate design. Faint smoke arose from the markings as they etched along her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, Hawke could see flicks of Danarius's black magic spiraling onto her face, like a tattooing. Using a small dagger, the mage sliced part of his palm with a smooth quick motion. His eyes showed no trace of pain or fear as blood pooled into his cupped hand, but rather, were filled with a wild look.

Danarius went on:

**"From blood of thine own; two became one...One body, one magic, one life...** **_luna stupore mentis_ ** **..."**

 

The blood lifted off of Danarius' palm and rested on top of the markings on Hawke's skin, gradually fading the color from black to dark red as it wove throughout her body.

Hawke's mind began to go blank. Danarius was all she began to think about. How Danarius should be served, how he should be made powerful. How she was eternally his.

Following the stones until he reached an abandoned warehouse, Fenris blasted through the door and raced against time.

**"Dust, sand, and stone in perfect harmony...embedded for perfect power..."**

 

     The ingredients in the bowls rose into the air and mixed together and liquified into a dull grey. The smooth liquid ran along Hawke's veins and settled into the grooves of her markings. She began to tremble uncontrollably, the sound of the chains that bound her echoing softly.

_I've got to find her...I've got to get to her before he has her._

 

Fenris heard the language of Tevinter being muffled in what appeared to be a back room within the warehouse. Scars nearly scalding him, he darted to the doorway where the sight greeted him: There was Hawke-floating lightly, as if in a trance, bound, and shackled; Danarius's voice carrying throughout the room.

"Hawke!" Fenris yelled, the magical barrier preventing him from interrupting his former master. Hawke blinked in recognition for a moment. The word "Help" formed on her lips but no sound came out.

****

**_"Ignitus!"_ **

 

Hawke's blood-curdling screams pierced through the musty air in the room, gaining in volume until inhuman-like wailing filled every corner of the room. Her eyes went dark and remote, and her body became rigid and arched in an unnatural way that made Fenris sick. Pulsated with light, glowing like a dying star, Fenris felt her screaming vibrate his very bones, the deepest well of his being felt as if shaken. The screams,  _her_  screams, would be burned into his mind forever.

 

     What happened next was all a blur for Fenris. It was as if he were outside of his body, and someone else was controlling it. He remembered blasting away the magical barrier, catching Danarius off-guard. Shrouding himself in a cloud of red smoke, Danarius vanished before Fenris could reach him. The spell broke, and Hawke floated down onto the table. Fenris gasped softly as his eyes traced her seemingly lifeless body.

"Lyrium burns..."

Fenris felt his throat tighten and dry, but he knew he had to get Hawke back to her mother and family.


	8. Bright Lights, Dark Wanderings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 8! Thanks for all of your reviews, follows, and likes. I love hearing from readers!

 

     Drenched in blood and cradling something gently in his arms, Leandra and Bethany spotted Fenris making his way over to their house. Running up to meet him, Bethany had tears streaming down her face.

 

"I was too late. I failed. I...take her."

 

Bethany's voice cracked, "My sister is-is dead?"

 

Fenris pushed a lock of Hawke's black hair from her face, exposing the scars swirling around it.

 

"No...just unconscious-"

 

Bethany gasped, realizing that what had been done to Fenris had also been done to her beloved sister.

 

"You...you let  _this_  happen to her?! After all she has done for you?!" Bethany screamed, slapping Fenris across the face and making him stumble.

 

"That's enough!" Leandra's voice cut through the night like a knife.

 

"Bethany, bring your sister inside and make up a bed for her. Now."

 

Glancing back long enough to see Fenris touch his face where her daughter had struck him, Hawk's mother disappeared back into the house.

_Should I follow? Should I tell them what happened? No, that would only make things worse..._ Fenris thought to himself as he sat down behind the same tree he often found Hawke napping under during her free time.

 

     Curling up and wrapping his arms around his knees, Fenris shut his eyes, hearing Hawke's scream sear through his memory. He slammed the tree trunk with a glowing hand, leaves drifting silently to his feet and a hole where his fist hit the trunk. His body ached, his mind ached, but most of all, his heart ached for the only friend he had ever known since becoming a slave himself.

_How could I have let this happen..._

 

Anger boiled from deep within him.  _Danarius_. It always came back to the mage...to  _magic_. Tainting everything in its path.

_I will make him wish for death...make him happy to have his heart ripped from his chest and burst in my hands. He will wish he was never born..._

 

     The lyrium activated on his body made him glow a faint blue that illuminated the tree with an unnatural light. Fenris plucked blades of grass with his glowing hand, watching it burst into a blue flame and fizzle under his fingertips as the grass was charred black. Repeating this motion, Fenris grit his teeth, imagining the blades of grass to be Danarius' body in his grasp.

 

The past... _his_  past... was now scorched onto Hawke.

* * *

"Are you sure he's still here?"

 

"If I know that elf, he's still here...somewhere..."

 

In one swift movement, Fenris stood facing a group of people he recognized.

 

Varric, Bethany, and Leandra---all waiting, all watching. Bethany was the first to speak.

 

"We can't wake her, Fenris. We've tried everything...We can't...she won't..." Her voice faded.

 

"I thought you would want nothing to do with me after tonight..." came a reply almost too quiet to hear.

 

"You  _saved_  her, Fenris. We owe you her life. Please do us this favor, and help Hawke once more. After all, you know about this sort of thing. If anyone can help, it's you now."

 

Fenris bowed, and in the blink of an eye, was inside Hawke's house.

 

     There Hawke lay, her eyes shut, and her body glowing a silver-blue where the lyrium had been etched on her body. The tangy scent drifted up to Fenris' senses as he approached her-the smell of Danarius' magic he was all too familiar with. Mixed with the bitter tanginess of magic was the sweet scent of roses that filled the room. Fenris knew magic mixed with its subjects in different ways, and whenever a spell was performed, its effects were always felt in the form of scents such as flowers or mint, in his case.

 

"No..." breathed Fenris, a tightness welling up in his chest, making it harder to breathe as he stared at her intently for the first time. Reaching out as if meaning to touch her face, the elf jerked his hand back suddenly, aware of the group's presence.

 

"Can't you do something?" He heard Bethany whisper.

 

Fenris muttered something in Arcanum, but did not meet her gaze.

_What can I do...being the slave that I was? Weak... that's all I am and will ever be...weak..._

 

Fenris stared at Hawke, her chest moving up and down in shallow breaths.  
Her face, once full of life and happiness, looked marred and pained.

_There has to be something..._

 

The door flung open again, and this time Isabella and Anders poured into Hawke's room.

 

"I'll need everyone out. I can bring her back to this world, but you must leave us be." Anders barked as he ushered Hawke's mother and sister out of the room.

 

"That means you too, Elf."

 

     Fenris glared at Anders, eyes, faintly glowing as he reluctantly stood up from beside Hawke's bed and exited the room silently.  
The door was left slightly ajar, and Fenris watched the mage as he stretched out his hands over Hawke. Muttering something Fenris couldn't discern, Ander's hands began to glow, a pulsating warm light hovered over Hawke. Fenris sneered as he glowered at the mage.

 

A loud  _pop_  resounded in the small house, making Bethany and her mother jump nervously. Fenris rushed into Hawk's room, ignoring Ander's angry scolding. Hawke began to squirm as she murmured like a person having a bad dream. Anders kept speaking over her as Fenris knelt beside Hawke's bed.

It unsettled him, this pain in his heart. If Hawke did not survive the ritual, if she no longer shared her smiles with him. It was almost as if Fenris could feel his heart breaking in two. He would not let magic take her away from him, too.

 

"Come back to us... follow my voice, Elanna... you must wake up..."

 

Anders' voice abruptly deepened, Justice speaking on his behalf,

 

"She is deep within the Fade...restrained using blood magic..."

 

Anders moved his hands right to left, as if wading through murky and dangerous waters. He began mumbling to himself in a deep and low voice, still searching for an unseen destination.

The small home was cramped with people in the tiny kitchen as word of Hawke's ordeal spread throughout Hawke's contacts. Leandra was slightly comforted by the sight of so many concerned faces.  
The sound of silence drew everyone's attention back to Hawke and the healer mage. Anders had stopped talking.

 

Hawke's lyrium markings pulsated until it seemed her whole body shimmered in an eerie shade of silver.

 

"AWAKE!"

 

Hawke's eyes shot open, seemingly against her will. Staring with unfocused eyes at the ceiling, a gasp went about the room.

 

"Mother..." Bethany gasped, a hand over her mouth.

 

"Maker help us..." her mother replied, making the sign against evil on her chest.

 

Anders looked away.

 

Elanna's eyes were now the color of silver lyrium.

* * *

     Hawke wandered in the darkness. She knew not how to get out, or even where she was. All she knew was that she wanted to go back home, but walking only brought her further and further into the darkness. Then, Hawke heard a voice-several whispering voices, all of which seemed to be familiar.

 

"Hello? Anyone? Anyone at all?!" Hawke yelled, starting to run aimlessly.

 

She couldn't tell where the voices were coming from, and they seem to be fading with every step she took. Just when she was about to give up hope, Hawke spotted a small shining light orb bobbing in the distance. Following it, the orb grew larger and larger, and a voice spoke to her in the gloom.

 

"It's all my fault...Hawke... I should have stayed with you...If you never would have met me this would not have happened... _I refuse to let you die, Elanna_!"

 

     Sprinting now toward the light and toward the concerned voice, Hawke felt a strange sensation, as if her spirit began to gravitate towards her physical self. She opened her eyes. Pain shot through her entire body as if it had been lit on fire. She heard people gasp, she could not even blink. Taking a shallow breath was too much for Hawke. She began to scream, the pain excruciating and unbearable.

 

"Oh, the pain hurts so badly! Make it stop! Please, Maker make it stop! Just kill me now!"

 

     Relapsing into labored breathing, Hawke looked around the room. Everyone ogled at her, frightened.  
Hawke's mother knelt down next to Fenris at the side of her daughter's bed, and said something that Hawke could not understand.

Confused, Hawke stared back at the woman until she repeated the statement. Beginning to panic, Hawke looked from her mother to Fenris.

 

"What? What are you trying to say?"

 

     Her mother's eyes widened in fear as she continued a slur of words unknown to Hawke, frantically pointing at her. Everyone began to speak in a dull roar that was incomprehensible to Hawke. Overwhelmed, she felt the lyrium flaring from underneath her skin, causing her to cry out once again. The more she felt her emotions spiraling out of control, the brighter the lyrium burned her skin.

_I...I can't believe it... It's impossible..._

 

Leaning closer to Hawke as the rest of the company began bickering amongst themselves of the best way to "cure" Hawke, Fenris gazed at her.

 

"Listen to me. You must calm down and breath slowly..." He whispered softly. "Can you understand me?"

 

The room fell silent as all eyes fell on the elf and girl. She nodded slowly, trying to steady her heavy breathing.

 

"You will be alright. You have my word."

 

Complete silence fell across the room.

 

"I can't understand...anyone..." Elanna finally breathed hoarsely.

 

Fenris's eyes filled with pain and sadness. "You're speaking Arcanum.  _They_  can't understand  _you_..."

 

"Remarkable..." Anders commented.

 

Fenris shut his eyes and sighed.

 

"What's wrong with her, Fenris? You know what language she's speaking?"

 

Fenris stood slowly and faced the group.

 

"It's my master's language...Danarius bewitched her mind to understand the language of the Tevinter Imperium."

 

     Looking around frantically, Hawke wanted to cry and scream at the same time. The pain that seared through her body would not lessen. All of these people spoke in a language she could not understand, and she did not know where she was or where she needed to be. It was all too much for her.

 

Fenris noticed Hawke's eyes begin to flutter. Careful so as not to touch her skin, Fenris placed a hand gently on her hair.

 

"Stay with us. You must stay awake---"

 

But Elanna drifted out of consciousness once more.


	9. Lost

"We've got to get her some help." Leandra said, her voice hushed.

 

Fenris shut the door to Elanna's room as the company filed into the cramped kitchen.

 

"She should come to my clinic. I can look after her there, and perform healing magic on her." Anders said, leaning up against a small table, his mage's staff falling beside his shoulder. Fenris clentched his fists.

_Just the kind of person she needs to be around...another mage..._  Fenris's face darkened in disgust as he watched Anders.

 

Hawke's mother looked towards the door to her daughter's room, worry lining her face and making her appear much older than her years.

 

"Well...I..." she stammered, unsure of the decision.

 

Fenris cleared his throat much louder than he had intended.

 

"I think the elf has something to say." Varric added, nudging his friend encouragingly.

 

The group turned to look at Fenris.

 

"If you wish to keep your daughter's... "condition" hidden for the time being, I think the last place she would need to go is where there is an underground clinic run by an apostate mage."

 

"Hey---!" Anders began, but was cut off by Fenris.

 

"They have been monitoring Anders' movements for quite some time, and if they should happen to raid the place, there would be nothing anyone could say to convince the Circle that she is not some possessed mage. She would not be safe."

 

"Well then..." began Leandra, "what would you suggest we do, Fenris?"

 

Fenris looked down. There was no mocking tone or superior air to her words. Someone, Hawke's own mother no less, wanted to hear what  _he_ had to say.

 

_Me? These people actually want to know my opinion? What use would a slave like..."_

 

He cut his thoughts off, determined, as he spoke clearly and concisely, "She can stay with me."

 

"Look," Anders argued, stepping towards the elf. "What can you possibly do that I couldn't? She needs magic to heal, not some wild dog licking her wounds..."

 

"No, you listen to  _me_ ," Fenris lowered his voice, his entire body and eyes flashing for a brief moment. "You have absolutely no idea how much pain she is in...how much pain she  _will_  be in...all in account of  _magic._  You can save the hero act for another day, Mage."

 

Anders distanced himself from Fenris, but continued to glare at him silently.

 

"We must move her tonight."

* * *

     Everyone watched as Anders waved his staff over Elanna, chanting softly under his breath. Fenris saw the look of pain fade from the girl's face, a sort of thin peace replacing it as her breathing slowed. The lyrium glow also began to lessen.

 

"Wha---" began Bethany, reaching out to her sister.

 

Fenris grabbed her hand, shaking his head. The lyrium in his own scars seared him where their skin touched, but he tried not to wince. He addressed her unusually softly,

 

"Touching her now would only cause her terrible pain."

 

Dropping her hand, Bethany nodded as tears welled up in her big brown eyes.

 

"My dear child. First Carver, and now this..."Hawke's mother said, turning her back to the rest of the company so they would not see her cry.

 

"Fenris, the sleeping spell I have on her only lasts for about two hours. If we are to move her, we need to do it now before she wakes up."

 

Anders, opening his hands again and raised them slightly. Elanna began to hover, her clean night gown hanging loosely at her sides.

 

"This way," Anders began, taking out his staff for added support.

 

Bethany turned to bury her face in her mother's hugging arms as they watched the elf and the mage depart for Hightown. The last thing he saw before he began running to his mansion was the two women, slumping onto the ground with their faces shining with tears. Fenris looked away.

* * *

 

"You can't possibly be  _serious_ , Fenris?" Anders snapped when they got to the door of a Hightown mansion.

 

Fenris turned the key to unlock the massive entrance into his home.

 

"It's not the abomination's concern where I live..."

 

"I have a name, you know."

 

Facing the mage, Fenris motioned for him to bring Hawke inside, his face expressionless.

 

"Bring her upstairs. There is a furnished room in the far back of the mansion that is relatively intact.. _.Anders_."

 

     Muttering obscenities under his breath, the mage carefully guided the floating Hawke to her room. Fenris, watching them ascend up the stairs, began to light the torches and candles around the mansion. Soon, the entire place glowed with soft light that cascaded throughout the room and vanquished the shadows that Fenris had become so accustomed to.

 

"She's safely upstairs..."

 

Fenris turned to see Anders jogging down the staircase.

 

"I'll come and check in on her tomorrow. I hope you know what you're doing, Fenris..."

 

"More than you would, I assure you." Fenris growled his response, not bothering to look up from the fire he was starting in the hearth.

 

Anders opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. Stomping back towards the entrance, he opened the door to let himself out.

 

"Remember...two hours, and then the spell breaks...oh, and Fenris..."

 

Fenris glanced up at the tone in Anders voice.

 

"...she will have dreams...very livid dreams that won't relent until the spell is broken..."

 

Fenris' ears twitched as he heard the door shut, and he was left alone. Looking up towards the second floor where Hawke lay sleeping, Fenris sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

 

"I'm so sorry, Hawke..."

* * *

     Pacing like a wolf caught in a cage, Fenris was beginning to wear down the floor along his path as he walked back and forth.

_Danarius and his magic…You deserve to die…slowly, and painfully._

 

Fenris' vision unfocussed, the large gathering room warping in his anger.

_Filthy magic..._

 

He didn't recognize the sound of his own fist hitting one of the many marble columns.

_Rots everything..._

 

The marble started to crack.

_I'll gash out his kneecaps first...maybe his eyes..._

The crack spread upward to the ceiling of the mansion

 

_All that matters is that I'll kick you when you're down...torture you until your body reaches the hell where you belong..._

 

Fenris tried to steady his breathing, his mind still racing. Cursing loudly, he haphazardly wrapped his bleeding hand with a cloth torn from one of the window curtains. It would do no good for him to injure himself now.

* * *

     Squeezing out excess water from a large bathing towel, Fenris placed it next to several similar ones on an old serving tray he had found lying around the mansion.

_She'll develop a high-grade fever as her body attempts to reject the lyrium, no doubt..._

 

Dipping another cloth into a basin of cold water, Fenris felt his hands shaking with anger.

 

"Argh! Danarius you demon!" Knocking the bowl over, Fenris placed his hands on the mantle and leaned forward, staring unseeingly at the fire. Just the thought of Danarius was enough to make Fenris want to throw something against the wall or overturn a table. But, hearing something stirring upstairs snapped Fenris out of his rampaging.

 

"Hawke..." he whispered and raced upstairs.

 

Bending down beside the soft bed, Fenris could only watch as Hawke began to dream. Pain began to contort Hawke's kind face as she began to twist and turn with heavy breathing.

_If I could only touch her…to console her...festa vass! She shouldn't have to relive what I've also had to endure..._

 

Breathing shallow and quickly now, Fenris could hear Hawke pleading in her sleep in a language he knew all too well.

 

"N-no Danarius! Please stop, please..." Voice trembling, the lyrium began to glow again on Hawke's skin.

 

Fenris, wide-eyed, felt himself watching a replay of what had happened to Hawke.

 

"Hawke! Hawke! It's only a dream, it isn't real..."

 

Fenris cut himself off, remembering Anders' words. Feeling helpless and angry once more, he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

 

Sweat ran down Hawke's neck as fear and agony twisted her face unrecognizably as she tossed and turned.

 

"...Please don't do this...get your hands off me...what are you going to do to me? Get off of-" Hawke sobbed and her eyes fluttered as her back arched.

_By the Maker... he didn't...he couldn't have..._

 

Covering his face with his hands, Fenris was surprised when his hands were wet. Hawke wasn't reliving Danarius placing the lyrium in her flesh. She was reliving Danarius having his way her.

 

Thrashing back and forth violently as if trying to escape a haunting ghost, Hawke tried to fight off her attacker.

_Should I touch her?_

 

He knew exactly the reaction he'd give if someone tried to console him in such a way.

 

Silent tears began rolling down Hawke's face.

 

Not able to stand it any longer, Fenris picked up one of the cold cloths he had soaked to gently wipe her face.

 

Whimpering, Hawke fidgeted violently. Fenris stared at her, trying to piece together the night's events.

 

"Fenris...Fenris help me...by the Maker, please help me, Fenris..."

 

A surge of pain jolted through his chest as his heart skipped a beat.

_She called out for me? So, I wasn't going mad...I felt her inside my very mind ---_

 

Hawke's yelp of pain brought Fenris back to the present as he tried to console her.

 

"You must wake up, Hawke. You must..."

 

Happiness flashed in his eyes as Fenris realized Hawke was awakening. It was quickly replaced by the empathy he felt as watched her writhe in pain from the markings on her skin.

 

"Whe-Where am I? Where is he? He was just here, and, and..."

 

"You must quiet yourself Hawke," Fenris said, still answering her in Arcanum. "I've brought you here, to my mansion. Since I am the only one able to understand you, I told your mother that I would take you under my care for the time being."

 

Eyes wide with fear, Hawke felt her cheeks burning. "Stop calling me that. My name is Paccipita. And, I...need to find him."

 

"Who?"

 

"My master."

 

     Fenris stared long and hard at Hawke, anger forcing him to clench his fists as he let out a curse in Arcanum. Leaning in towards Hawke's face, that lovely face with those haunting silver eyes that were now filled with such disquiet. Fenris spoke very slowly.

 

"Do you know who I am?"

 

Hawke opened her mouth, as if the elf's name was on the tip of her tongue. But no words came out.

 

Fenris gripped the wooden bed frame, his knuckles turning white as he tried to exhale slowly.

 

"What is my name?" He repeated.

 

Their eyes locked. Hawke squinted, concentrating on a shadow of a memory. She saw the elf in front of her, with markings on his skin like hers. His hair was a shocking white that fell naturally across his face, framing large, deep eyes. Those eyes seemed to be pleading in earnest, begging for an answer.

 

"You..." Hawke began, her words spilling from her mouth as her own thoughts were forming.

 

Slowly, she continued. "You...called out to me in the darkness?"

 

He looked puzzled at the vague statement.

 

"...I was lost, and you called to me...you said it was all your fault...that you wouldn't allow me to die...?"

 

Hawke heard the elf catch his breath in surprise, but he did not look away.

 

     Hawke recalled everything in her memory, but when she tried to piece together the elf's name, it was as if that part of her memory was blotted out by a pen with too much ink. She looked into his eyes once more, her gaze traveling from the silver-white sheen of his hair to the warrior's armor. She noticed the sword at his back. A flash of memory surged through her against her will. Hawke closed her eyes and let her breath out slowly.

 

"I feel... like I should know you...but...I can't..."

 

     The elf sighed loudly as he looked at the woman before him. She opened her eyes and stared at him, truly studying his eyes, searching for an answer. For a moment, it seemed, all of the pain and uncertainty faded away. Fenris broke her gaze and hurriedly got to his feet.

 

"Do not concern yourself if my name is no longer in your mind. It is of no importance. Just rest and know that you are with..." Fenris hesitated momentarily.

 

Hawke hung on his every word.

 

"...a friend."


	10. Aftermath

     Striding over to the main hearth in the room, Fenris lit kindle and tended to the small flame emerging. Hawke touched the spot on the bed where Fenris had leaned over just a moment before, his scent a mixture of soap, pine, and mint. She inhaled deeply, a memory from her recent past nudging at the back of her mind.

_Why can't I remember him...Just who is he anyway? He has those same markings, though, so maybe we have the same master?_

 

Bending over the small fireplace in the center of the room, Fenris piled wood. As he started a small flame going, Hawke heard him mumble, "It's a relief to be able to speak Arcanum again so freely."

 

"What?" 

 

"Oh, forgive me. I was thinking aloud. It's just..." Fenris looked down at the newly started fire. 

 

Hawke watched the elf before her, his back turned away from her.

 

"What other language do you know?" Hawke asked politely. 

 

Fenris looked back at her, his deep, dark eyes filled with sadness as the firelight danced around his skin. 

 

"I will do everything in my power to make sure Danarius will suffer for what he has done to you."

 

"Why?"

 

Fenris' mouth dropped. 

 

"W-why? Because what that monster did to you...what he did to the _both_ of us...I plan on doing more to him than just asking for an apology..."  
  


 

Hate dripped from his words as Hawke instinctively recoiled at the snarl of anger appearing on Fenris' face as the firelight produced menacing shadows around him. Or maybe was beginning to see things that weren't there. The room's warm light began to obscure her vision the harder she tried to focus.  
  


     He refused to look at her in the eyes. It was too much for him to handle. Whatever Danarius did to Hawke to give her the lyrium marks, it was undoubtedly different than the ritual performed on him all those years ago (not that he could remember his ritual either). It was as if there was so much lyrium inside her, it spilled over and pooled into her eyes. Those bright, expressive green eyes that danced when telling a joke, softened when seeing friends, and blazed when angered... he'd never see them again.  
  
     

     The markings were more extensive and elaborate as well: a thin, delicate, vine-like design covering most of her body and the inside of her palms. Whereas Fenris' markings only reached up to his lower lip up from his neck, Hawke's markings were etched into a design that outlined her face from her hairline and swirled down to close off the circle at the bottom of her chin.  
  


     His heart hurt, and he felt like doubling over to hold his chest. It was his fault Hawke lay there, scared and broken. It was his fault she now shared his fate. Everything was happening because he allowed himself too close. He allowed himself to open up to people, to have friends. He didn't deserve to have friends. He didn't deserve to have anyone in his life if it only led back to Danarius' power over him, and his desire to hurt him. Maybe it would be better just to rid the world of the burden of someone like him.  
  


 

"You know, I can't read minds, but if you're having a conversation up there, Mr. Elf, then I'd love to have my share of the conversation, too."

 

  
Fenris wanted to drown himself in guilt.  He saw Hawke trying to smile but then shutting her eyes when the twist of pain from the lyrium around her face burned what little happiness Hawke expressed.

 

  
_She sounds like Merrill... innocent and naive... will she ever return to the Hawke I know..._   
  


 

     There she was, staring at him again, trying to figure him out. She shivered, although the fire blazed along the wall closest to her. In a quick movement almost too fast to see, Fenris gathered up the blankets he had piled up in the corner of the room.  
  


 

“Here,” he draped several blankets around Hawke with such gentleness their other companions would have refused to believe possible.

 

     As he leaned in to cover her, he made sure not to touch the patterns on her flesh. Still, Fenris saw a flash in Hawke’s eyes. He knew that look, the look of a half pieced together memory that fogs into nothingness as soon as it forms. He was altogether used to the occurrence, and normally, it did not bother him as much as it used to in the past. He held his breath, waiting for her to speak to see if his premonition was right.  
  


"I don't feel so well..." She said, barely audible.

 

 

She felt a hand floating near her face, but not touching it.

 

"I could be mistaken, but, I believe you are running a fever. Here, this will sting at first when it touches the lyrium on your face but..." 

 

Hawke squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the blanket around her as she tried not to cry out. She could feel the place where a cold cloth had been placed on her forehead with a mixture of relief from the heat of the fever and the acute pain she felt as the markings on her skin were activated slightly.

 

"The lyrium in your skin, it glows with the pain of a thousand suns...you will become used to it."

 

Hawke opened her eyes slowly, looking into the eyes of the elf who kneeled beside her.  
  


 

"Who _are_ you?"

 

She squinted to see what looked like pain washing over the elf's face. Hawke heard the elf sigh and watched his shoulders sagged. He evaded her question.  
  


 

“Someone sworn to protect you...”  
  


 

Hawke closed her eyes.

 

  
“Swearing’s not good for your health, you know...”  
  


 

She drifted off into a thin sleep, her fever spiking as the Chantry bells rang four times.  
  


 

     Fenris entered the main hall of the mansion’s first floor, and with an ease that showed off his apparent strength, he hoisted his favorite red leather chair and set it down next to the bed where Hawke lay sleeping.  He stood near her body, peering down at her, watching the lyrium marks rise and fall with each breath she took. He sank down in the chair silently, covering his face with his armored hands.  
  


* * *

 

     Fenris snapped awake at the sound of bells. How long had he slept?  
  
 _One...Two...Three... Four... Five... Shit, I can’t believe I allowed myself to sleep this long..._  
  


He shot a glance at Hawke. She was still asleep, but her face was again contorted as nightmares plagued her dreams. Getting up, he switched out the towel that was on her forehead for a new one. The coolness seemed to ease the harsh lines of pain that had formed on Hawke’s face while she slept.  
  


The roaring fire in the room was now a bed of warm embers, beckoning the cool morning air to seep through the cracks in the mansion’s windows.  
  


     Fenris walked over to close the cloth curtains to darken the room, but when he reached the window, he saw a woman in a blue mage’s cloak looking up at him from the small courtyard of the mansion. He recognized the cloak as the same one Hawke wore on their second meeting when she had brought him breakfast. Bethany was at his doorstep.  
  


     Bethany could see the tiredness in Fenris as soon as he opened the door, from the deep dark circles under his eyes to his disheveled hair falling in front of his face. The mage and elf stood in a tense silence that encompassed the air around them, neither willing to speak.  
  


Fenris opened the door wider, letting Bethany push past him silently as she walked into the great room. 

 

Turning to face him suddenly, her spoke to him, her voice choked, “Where?”

 

  
     Fenris looked towards the second story room with the door ajar, and Bethany headed up the stairs in that direction. He was quick to follow her, hovering just outside the room’s entrance. He watched the younger Hawke as she inched closer to her sister. She stopped at a fair distance away, and stood in the middle of the room. Before Fenris could open his mouth to say anything, Bethany turned on her heels and darted past him and out of the room, covering her mouth.  
He heard her vomiting out of one of the nearby windows.  
  


 

     Fenris waited some time until Bethany’s sickness subsided to exit the room and join her near the stairs. There she sat, gripping her ankles with her head between her knees to keep from vomiting again. When she finally looked up again, Fenris tossed her one of the towels he soaked the night before to help break Hawke’s fever. Catching it with one hand, Bethany wiped off her flushed face. She hiccuped, her face remaining blotchy red.  
  


 

“I hope you did not relieve yourself out from the windows overlooking the main street. That would be an interesting early morning surprise for Kirkwall’s finest.”  
  


 

He saw her smile slightly before sadness enveloped her kind face once again.  
  


 

She looked back up at Fenris with a mixture of anger, hurt, and worry. He waited for the question he knew she wanted to ask.  
  


 

“Will she be okay...?”  
  


 

Fenris suddenly felt very tired. Too tired for biting remarks, or cold comments about having a mage in his home. He felt himself slide down slowly as he leaned up against the wall.  
  


 

“If by ‘okay’ you mean, ‘the way she once was’, that I cannot say. Lyrium burns much deeper than flesh...it stains your very soul.”  
  


 

“Poor Hawke...poor Mother...” came her whispered reply.  
  


 

Fenris tugged at the tip of his pointed ears, remaining stoic as he sat on the cool floor. He noticed Bethany’s small, purple belt purse hanging from her side.  
  


 

“Where’s the nearest food market?”  
  


 

Bethany was confused at the sudden change of topic.  
  


 

“Just on the other side of the street, why?”  
  


 

“May I please utilize your bag for a few moments? I promise I shall return shortly. There are...things I wish to buy.”  
  


 

Bethany gave him a cross look.  
  


 

“What could you possibly _need_ at a time like this?”  
  


 

“It is not for myself, I assure you, but for your sister.”  
  


 

Bethany wasn’t sure she believed him, but handed her the bag.  
  


 

“That’s my favorite belt-purse you know. You better make this quick.”

 

  
The elf glowed for a second, and then disappeared before Bethany had time to blink.

 

  
     No less than five minutes transpired before Fenris returned to the mansion, Bethany’s belt purse stuffed to the brim with an assortment of grains, honeys, and other foodstuffs.  
  


Checking on Hawke’s fever one last time, before closing the door off to her room, he motioned for Bethany to follow him to the east side of the mansion where the kitchen quarters was located.

  
He dumped the contents of her purse onto one of the preparation tables in the large cooking area. Bethany took back her bag and buckled it back across her hips, disappearing underneath her robe.  
  


 

Her eyes lit up instantly, “How did you find these? They are impossible to find in Kirkwall!”

 

Fenris smiled, bribes have their uses after all.  
  


 

“Hawke spoke of your skill in cooking Ferelden specialties. I am not... _slaves_ were not permitted to go near the food. But, I wonder if possibly...”  
  


 

Bethany felt her anger towards the elf melt and be replaced with pity as he looked looked painfully eager all of the sudden.  
  


 

“Fill a pot with water, and I’ll show you something my sister loves to eat when she’s feeling sick.”  
  


 

     Fenris brought the piping hot bowl of porridge up to Hawke’s room himself. Entering, he saw her opening her eyes and try to sit up. Bethany rushed over to help her sister, remembering what the elf had said about the pain one feels when their lyrium marks are touched. Elanna’s eyes widened.  
“Who are you?” she said nervously, trying to cover herself more with the many blankets around the bed.  
  


 

Bethany inhaled unevenly, trying to remain calm. After last night, at least she wasn’t screaming in pain.  
  


 

“Um...Fenris?”  
  


 

He lowered the bowl as he dropped his arms slightly.  
  


 

“She still can’t understand you, Bethany, nor does she know who you are...”  
  


 

Bethany put her hand on her face to stifle a gasp.  
  


 

“You mean, she doesn’t even know who _she_ is?” Her eyes never left her sister’s face, although she found her shocking silver eyes discomforting.

 

“No.” Fenris sounded cold, angry, and sad all at once.  
  


 

Silence again filled the room. Hawke looked from the young woman in front of her to the elf behind her. Bethany turned her head over her shoulder, glancing back at Fenris.  
  


 

“And you?”  
  


 

Fenris stared at the wall, his eyes guarded.  
  


 

“No, she doesn’t know who I am, either. I can interpret for you, if you wish.”  
  


 

“Mmm, what smells so good?”  
  


 

     In mere moments, the hardened warrior elf Bethany had often heard Varric describe as “sullen”, “cold”, and “brooding” walked over to her sister with a timid kindness in his eyes she had not seen before...not since her father died years ago. She observed the elf more closely as he knelt down in front of her sister’s bed, murmuring what seemed to be a morning greeting.  
  


 

    _He seems nervous_ , Bethany thought to herself as Fenris carefully placed the bowl of grain breakfast porridge in front of Hawke. Bethany spent much of her patience teaching the elf how to cook what she considered a simple meal, he wasn’t kidding when he said he had no idea what went on in preparing or cooking a meal. But, he also refused to let Bethany take over, irritated if she tried to take over his job and finish cooking herself.  
  
 _For all they say, he’s just a big grumpy puppy in the end..._  
  


 

She doubted anyone else would see the tall elf that way, as he was constantly insulting anyone and everyone who even tried to strike up a conversation with him. Anyone besides her sister...maybe.  
  


 

     Turning her attention back to the two other people in the room, Bethany saw Fenris push a spoon toward Hawke, gesturing for her to eat. Hawke shrank away from touching anything at first, afraid of the biting sting physical contact caused, Bethany suspected. Fenris waiting patiently by her side, blowing on the food to cool it.  
  
She never thought this side of the elf existed, not in a thousand years, after all the rumors she heard.  
  


 

“It will hurt, but just try to eat a few mouthfuls...”  
  


_Something about him...makes me trust him...even though I have no recollection of him..._

 

  
Although a burning sensation seared her along the lyrium’s path on her skin, Hawke took a bite of the porridge with honey and nuts sprinkled on top. Her face beamed with relaxed pleasure as she savored the warm food.  
  


“This is so delicious! What is it?” Hawke took another bite, like a child who had never tasted something so good in her life.  
  


 

Bethany could see Fenris was smiling more than a little proudly at something her sister said. She must have liked the food, she thought to herself.  
  


 

“What’s she saying?” Bethany finally said aloud.  
  


 

“She wants to know what we made her...”  
  


 

“But...it’s her favorite Ferelden breakfast...she must remember that. Father used to make it for us _all_ the time...”  
  


 

“I told you, she doesn’t even remember her name, let alone the foods she used to eat as a child.”  
  


 

Hawke interrupted them again, “Wow, these nuts are amazing! I could eat them everyday and never get tired of them! What are they, Mr. Elf?”  
  


 

Fenris felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach by an angry troll. It was as if what he just told Bethany was reaffirmed concretely.  
  


 

“Those are Ferelden Carya nuts...rare in these parts, I’m afraid. I am glad you enjoy them.”  
  


 

Bethany stepped out of the room, devastated. There was no magic words to turn back time, no special potion to reverse her sister’s condition. First her father, then her brother, and now her sister...maybe magic really does ruin everyone’s lives.  
  


 

She excused herself from the mansion, it was her duty to give their mother an update before she worried herself sick, too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **  
**


	11. On Even Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 11! Originally, this chapter was going to be combined with chapter 10, but I felt it too long so I split them up. I got the idea to add this chapter thanks to the comments and reviews of those who read the story, so thank you all! Enjoy!

 

* * *

**-Anders-**

 

"Just take me to her, Fenris."

 

     Anders followed the elf up the tattered stairs, thinking back to the previous night's events. Hawke hadn't given him a second glance, not since the night he'd asked for her help with his mage friend, Karl. And yet, he felt his mind wander in the lonely nights he spent in the clinic. Every inch of him knew it was unwise, even unsafe to allow himself to feel such things for another person. But, in the end, Anders was only a man, and Hawke was amazingly beautiful and skilled. He had never met someone like her before, and every chance he got, he had accompanied her on any odd job where his services as a healer were needed. Hawke treated him with cautious respect, after all, who could blame her for distancing herself from Justice, the spirit that had merged with his own soul?

 

     He knew Hawke liked Fenris --- _everyone_  knew it--- but Anders didn't care. If he could only get her alone, he'd show Hawke the warmth and comfort she deserved. He'd show her why he was clearly a better choice rather than that maniac, Fenris. He'd show her the world for the near-impossible chance she'd return his affections. Justice did not approve of his obsession with the beautiful rogue woman.

 

     Anders snapped back into the present as he silently entered the room where Hawke lay, resting. No...resting was not the correct word. She was  _suffering_  while she lay on her back with her eyes shut tightly. In a split moment, Anders reached out and touched her cheek. Lyrium markings lit bright silver, and her eyes, those haunting silver eyes of hers, shot open.

 

"You ignorant demon-spawn, don't touch her!"

 

Fenris yanked the mage's hand back away from Hawke's face, nearly dislocating his shoulder from the socket.

 

"Shit, Elf, that  _hurts_!"

 

Anders howled, massaging his now pained arm. He continued to stare at Hawke, his eyes tracing the lyrium on her skin.

 

"By the Maker...who did this to her?"

 

     Hawke, now fully awake and wide-eyed, looked nervously from Fenris to the man cloaked with a mage's staff and his hair pulled back into a horse's tail at the nape of his neck. She winced as she tried to pull the blanket tighter around herself.  
She blurted out questions in Arcanum, but when Fenris opened his mouth to answer her, Anders interrupted.

 

"Oh right," he commented, lifting a vial of nauseatingly green colored liquid from his cloak pocket. "Concocted this myself last night. Let's give it a try, shall we?"

_She's not an experiment to toy with, Abomination..._

 

Drinking the green liquid from the vial, Anders gagged.

 

"Ugh, I don't mind doing it, but it tastes _terrible_."

 

"Is there a potion under that cloak of yours that'll make you stop whining, too?"

 

"Ya' know, you are remarkably adept at expressing yourself despite being a slave all those years."

 

He saw that he clearly struck a nerve, and a flash of remorse crossed his mind.

_Don't lie to yourself, my friend. He doesn't understand you, Anders, and he never will. What would an elf slave know of the struggles we've faced? It's no use trying to talk to this rabid mutt..._

 

Steely eyes glared down at him.

 

"Just so you know, Elanna doesn't remember anything about her former life...she thinks her name is Paccipita. She answers by that name..."

 

Anders cleared his throat, silencing Justice's voice in his head.

 

"Paccipita, Paccipita? Can you hear me?"

 

The potion worked, she could understand him. Too bad it only lasted a few hours, at best.

The woman looked up at Anders. She studied him with those silver eyes of her for what seemed like an eternity for Anders. Even Justice felt bewitched.

 

"Are you my master?"

 

Anders raised his brow in interest.

 

"Do you want me to be?"

 

" _No_ ," Fenris stood between them, his voice low and threatening. "This...this  _thing_  is a medic...if you could even call him that..."

 

Leaning in out of Hawke's earshot, Fenris hissed at Anders in the common tongue of Kirkwall,

 

"You try anything... _anything_  at all, and I'll make you  _beg_  them to turn you Tranquil."

 

"Afraid of a little competition now that we're on an even playing field?"

 

Fenris' own marks flared in warning, singeing the fur on Anders' coat. Fenris could care less about ruining the abomination's clothes---they were hideous anyways.

Resisting the urge to freeze the elf in a block of ice, Anders turned to Hawke once more.

 

"I am a doctor, and I can help you. Won't you tell me what pains you?"

 

     The blanket covering Hawke's hands fell to reveal the lyrium patterns wrapping around them, starting from the tips of her fingers and snaking all the way around both arms and down her body. If it wasn't for them causing her excruciating pain, Anders would have commented on their beauty. Hawke resembled one of the many ancient divine beings of old.

 

"Everywhere hurts."

 

"Okay, I'll need you to lie back down and remove the blankets so I can get a better look at you."

 

     Hawke shot a panicked glance at Fenris who slowly nodded, his jaw clenched so tight it made his teeth hurt.  
He watched as Anders lay his hands over Hawke, hovering just above her body so as not to touch her. The familiar blue-green light that was known as his healing powers emanated from the mage's hands. Fenris cursed under his breath.  
Eyes focused and unwavering on his patient, Anders concentrated the core of his power into a tight ball. Using the ball as a sort of magical looking glass, he peered into the magic that coursed through Hawke's veins. Catching her wide eyes staring up at him, petrified, his expression turned.

 

"So, what do you like to do for fun, Paccipita?"

 

"I...don't know," came her soft reply.

 

It surprised Anders how fragile and delicate she seemed now, when before, the Hawke everyone knew was strong-willed, self assured, and witty.  
Moving the ball of light until it spread out over her arms, Anders tried distracting Hawke again, this time, his voice gentle.

 

"What about animals? You like animals?"

 

Hawke shrugged.

 

"Did you know I used to have a cat while I was in the Deep Roads? Name was Ser Pounce-a-lot."

 

     Fenris balled his fist tightly. He was  _smiling_  at her, that twisted smile of his that Hawke's companions called, "charming", "sweet", and according to one particular pirate, "was enough to make any girl be swept off their feet for a night of passionate ecstasy".  
He saw her smile back, the fear in her eyes dimming.

 

"Ser Pounce-a-lot? Really?" She giggled. "What a funny little name..."

_I'm going to punch his face in... that abomination has no business talking to her as if they have something between them..._

 

Anders' eyes never left Hawke's, but his hands continued to scan her markings with his magical light.

 

"Mmhmm," Anders answered with a chuckle of his own. "Brave little bugger, that cat. Once saved me from a huge monster...nearly ripped him in two. He swatted him on the nose, though...drew blood, too."

 

"Wow, what an awesome cat! What happened to him?"

 

Anders' eyes filled with regret.

 

"I had to give him to a friend. They said it made me "too soft"..."

 

"Well, I don't think loving something makes someone weak...pretty much the opposite, really. It takes courage to love and let yourself be loved in return, don't you think?"

 

Anders' hands paused in mid-air as he looked down at the woman lying in the bed. A flicker of a potential future crossed his mind.

 

"Yes, yes I think so too..."

_Wretched conniving, deceitful mages... all of them. Taking advantage of the weak at every turn..._

 

Fenris' eyes glowed as he stared at the mage in his mansion.

 

"Aww, tell him cats aren't _that_ bad...at least they aren't as smelly as a dog." Hawke commented, still looking up at Anders .

 

"Oh don't mind Justice, he just doesn't... "

 

He balked at her.

 

"You can  _hear_  him?"

 

"The way he's talking, can't everyone? He has quite the sharp tongue."

 

     Fenris saw the mage's cool facade visibly crack. He saw Anders try to suppress the alarm creeping into his face, but failed.  
The mage cleared his throat uncomfortably, still looking at Hawke.  
He instead, however, addressed Fenris,

 

"Can  _you_  hear him, too?"

 

The birds around the mansion were coming alive at this point in the morning, chirping their happy greetings to the morning.

 

" _Fenris_ , answer me..."

 

"I can not."

 

Anders thought for a moment, fear seeping into his conscious mind.

_She is too close, my friend, much too close to the Fade. The same thing that ripped my spirit and trapped it in this world...the same is being done to the rogue-woman only in reverse._

 

"What must I do?" Anders said quietly, closing his eyes as his neck tensed.

 

     Fenris was torn in a myriad of directions. He glanced at Hawke, eyes unaware and untainted looking. He dare not admit he was afraid, for that meant something was truly awry. No, he would not run away from her now, not when it was his fault she was the way she was. All his life, Fenris had run, never staying in one place too long, never really caring enough in the first place whether he stayed here nor there. His first instincts were always to run.

_I can guide you, Friend, through the enchantment needed to ensure her spirit remains locked within her body._ Justice informed Anders.

 

Hawke was sitting back up now, clearly uncertain about what was going on.

 

"Doctor?" Her voice was small and quivered slightly.

 

"Go to my clinic, and bring me my supplies in the large black medical bag you will find in my living quarters."

 

The authority in Anders' voice made something click inside Fenris.

 

"Right away, Nobility." Fenris gave a Tevinter salute, and flew out of his own mansion.

 

As soon as he stepped outside, however, Fenris realized what had happened. The mage in the mansion was not Danarius, and yet still, there he was, groveling like an eager to please wolf-pup.

_Fasta Vass! What in Maker's bloody name was I thinking? When I get back, I'll give that mage a piece of my mind...or two. Talking to me like he owned me...he is no better than the magisters..._

 

Still he made his way as fast as he could to Anders' clinic, for he wasn't doing it because he was ordered to do so, but because of Hawke.

* * *

     Anders laid back against the bedpost, catching his breath as he wiped away a stray piece of hair that had plastered itself to his sweating face. He succeeded in finding Hawke's inner core, and he had succeeded in casting an enchantment that provided a barrier between herself and the darkness in her veins that constantly called her into the Fade. But he was worn out, his mana supply all but spent. It took him several hours to complete the complex spell needed for such an outcome, but it had worked, and Hawke was sleeping somewhat peacefully due to a sleeping draught he gave her.

 

   Fenris, although cursed Anders multiple times, threatened to crush his bones, and lamented the day he was ever born, did his best to keep visitors at bay while the healer mage worked. And now, he was once again by Hawke's side, stroking her hair when he thought Anders wasn't looking.

_At least she can no longer get lost forever in the Fade..._

* * *

 

     Fenris' thoughts returned to the woman in his room, and he felt a new resolve. He knew he had to turn and face the tiger, for both their sakes; He knew he had to protect her at all costs, even if it meant his life.  
If it meant seeing Hawke smiling again, Fenris didn't care who he had to kill or how much blood he had to shed to make that happen.

 

"Elanna, please get well soon.  _Please_..."

 

They would pay for hurting her. They would  _all_  pay.


	12. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter songs: "Try Not to Breathe" by R.E.M., and "Have a Little Faith in Me" by John Hiatt

 

* * *

     It took Elanna nearly three hours to fully bath. Every place the water glided over her skin, every single bubble of soap, seared her with burning pain. Drying off by tapping her body over with a cloth as gently as possible, Hawke felt her eyes well up with tears.

 

Fenris waited for a long time for Hawke to finish bathing. Staring into the fire in front of him, he was surprised she could even walk at this point.

_I wish I could take her pain away...she does not deserve this fate._

 

     The sound of a door being opened jolted Fenris away from his brooding thoughts.  
There stood Hawke, in the middle of the room, with loose-fitting white sleeping gown on that tied at the waist with a green sash around the front. Her long raven hair was free from its usual braids, cascaded down her back in soft waves while the lyrium markings glowed faintly as they wrapped around her body. Hawke looked ethereal---Fenris could not look away.

His eyebrows went up in surprise as he realized her eyes were filled with tears about to spill over. He stepped towards her.

 

"Hawke...?" he asked instinctively.

 

"It hurts...  _I_  hurt...everywhere... why won't it ever stop?" Hawke reached up to cover her face with her hands.

 

A strange, panicked look overtook her face as she began to take deeper breaths, as if unable to get enough air into her lungs.

 

"I…don't…know…who…I…am…and I can't…no…no.." Elanna began gasping for breath, her face pale and ashen, her eyes wide with fear.

 

     Before he knew what he was doing, Fenris cupped her face in his hands and wiped the tears falling from her face. Another strange sensation went through Fenris' own markings as if he had been electrified. It coursed through his lyrium laced veins from the palms of his hands down to the soles of his feet. His voice was steady and quiet.

 

"Just breathe…breathe, Elanna..." Fenris took slow, deep breaths and encouraged her to do the same, but he could see Hawke's eyes glazed over as if staring into the distance.

 

     She felt it. She felt the lyrium markings on her face being touched by the elf who had sworn to take care of her. Her sharp inhale made Fenris try to withdraw his hand, but she placed her hand on top of his and closed her eyes. She felt something different.

 

"Your hands..." she whispered, afraid that the sensation would disappear if she spoke too loudly.

 

Fenris felt her warm, rapid breath near his hand. He felt rooted to the spot as he stared at Hawke, unable to speak.

 

"Your hands are cold...it's as if I can feel your  _emotions_  through these...these markings..."

 

     Hot tears dropped silently from Elanna's eyes, but a faint smile appeared on her lips. She sighed, releasing the bound of tension in her shoulders. She leaned up against the elf in front of her, her head placed softly on his chest. Her tears burned as they rolled down her face over the markings on her skin. Would she ever stop hurting?

 

     Fenris brushed a tear away with a thumb, still intently watching Elanna. Hawke opened her eyes, seeing the elf so close to her face, his large deep eyes filled with worry and compassion. He leaned into her touch as Hawke breathed deeply. Slowly, Fenris purposely placed his palm over Hawke's lyrium markings that lined her face.  
Her eyes brightened in sudden surprise.

 

" _Fenris_..." she breathed. "Your name's Fenris..."

 

The elf let out a half-laugh as he touched his head gently against hers.

 

"That's right..."

 

     With her soft hand still holding onto Fenris', Elanna closed her eyes and ran his hand slowly and deliberately over the lyrium markings on her face.  
Fenris felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched her. Her warm breath on his hands sent shivers down his spine. She moved his hand over her lips and let out a faint sigh.

 

"Hawke...?"

 

"You feel...nice…" She murmured, her breath beginning to quieten.

 

     Fenris looked down at Elanna, but tried to ignore the pounding of his beating heart that seemed to press up against his ears.  
He smiled again as he looked at her with softened eyes. It was the smile he reserved only for her.  
Leading Elanna gently over to her bed, he sat down beside her.

 

"Come, you need to rest."

 

     Walking was still somewhat difficult for her, but Fenris was slow and patient to guide her over to the bed she had been occupying as of late. Placing her hand on the soft down mattress, it still hurt her to touch anything. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the elf wouldn't notice her pain. He stood slightly behind her, a strong, silent presence in her mind. She heard him breathe in as if to say something, then stop. She did not push him to say what was on his mind. No, the silence they now shared was a comforting sort of quiet.

 

She brushed the soft pillow with her thumb, hoping that if she repeated the action often enough, the shooting burns she felt along her lyrium marks would subside as well.

 

     She turned her body slightly when she heard a sound coming from behind her. Fenris, his hand still in hers, tugged at the small buckles of his spiked hand armor with his teeth, allowing the equipment to slide free and fall onto the floor with a loud  _clank_. He now placed his fully exposed hand on Hawke's shoulder, keeping the lyrium on his skin and hers in constant contact. Hawke felt herself blush, but she returned to running her hands along the bed, determined to build up a resistance to her constant state of agony.

 

     The silence was deafening as another  _clank_  filled the room. Now with both hand guards removed, the only other armor Fenris carried with him was his greatsword, and besides that, wore a simple dark tunic and elves' pants. The clothes he wore were simple, but Fenris knew didn't hurt his skin nearly as much as some of the other clothes scattered throughout the mansion in the clothing chests he had found.

 

     Ever since the day Fenris had offered his hand to Hawke in an attempt to console her for the blame she felt for her brother's death, his markings had reacted differently towards her touch. Her fingers felt like cool water on an aching sunburn, her touch elicited a relief to the pain he always shoved to the far reaches of his consciousness. Perhaps that was what Hawke was experiencing now. If this were true, then keeping their lyrium markings touching would perhaps ease her pain as well.

 

Meanwhile Hawke eyed the bed in deep thought.

_What would hurt less, slowly getting on the bed, bit by bit, or just jump in and get it over with? It'd be like ripping off a bandage, right?_

 

Fenris looked alarmed when she chose the second option, hopping onto the bed suddenly.

 

Bad idea. Her sudden curses in Arcanum made Fenris wonder how a magical enchantment could have taught her such foul language.

 

But Hawke was tired of hurting, and was tired of being tired of hurting. She began to laugh, a shallow kind of bitter laugh.

_So that's where I get my laugh from..._  Fenris thought amused, yet sad.

 

"Well that blighted hurt..."

 

He laughed darkly in return, "Strange how something so soft can hurt so much, correct?"

 

"By the Maker's bastard children,  _everything_  hurts. Bloody bath, bloody bed, bloody stinking clothes..."

 

"With all that blood you just mentioned, I'm surprised you'd have any left...you'd need a transfusion soon..."

 

They stared at each other, straight-faced and silent. Then her mouth twitched. Soon, they were both laughing at the awful joke.

 

"Wow, Fenris, I must  _really_  have some kind of fever if I'm hallucinating such a bad punch line."

 

She said it again.  _His_  name---just like she used to say before the ritual. Hope surged through Fenris as he watched her settle into bed once more.

_Hawke's still in there, somewhere deep down. Maybe there's still a chance she'll recover completely..._

* * *

 

"I'm scared."

 

The small voice was almost too soft to be registered by human ears, but to Fenris, her voice rang through the thick darkness clearly. He heard her slowly stir, weary from tossing and turning the entire night. Fenris had not slept, could not sleep even if he had wanted to. His thoughts were of Elanna, and only of her.

 

He knew why she was afraid, for it is the same reason Fenris had not had a peaceful night's sleep in years. Fenris' voice was clear and crisp.

 

"Nightmares in the Fade?"

 

He heard her exhale slowly.

 

     Hawke saw a shadow of movement from the chair Fenris had remained in since she had retired for the night. Soft shuffling came from the far corner, then a spark caught her eye. Fenris had lit a candle, and finding several other candlesticks and candelabras around the mansion, proceeded to fill the room with the soft glow of candlelight. Her eyes traveled where he walked, Fenris remaining quiet, but diligent in his task until the whole room was aglow. Finally, he turned and walked over to her bedside.

 

"It is said demons in the Fade are confused by the light of candles... Something to do with the way the flame moves, I am told."

 

     He watched her face, and gauged her reaction. Hawke's eyes shifted until she was looking into his, a tired expression making the silver in her eyes to appear like a dark cloud just before the rain. Bending down towards her, Fenris gently coaxed her to sit up slightly, her eyes never leaving his. He tried to steady his beating heart that raced in his chest again for the second time that night. Surely, Fenris thought, she would be able to see how nervous she made him.

 

Curving his body around her ( _Maker, I hope she doesn't slap me away_ ), he eased himself behind Hawke, providing a barrier between her skin and the bed she lay on. ( _What's possessed me to be doing this? I'm such a foo_ l)

 

     Hawke's mouth went dry, and she could hear every beat of her heart, every inhale of her breath, and Fenris' warm, hesitant breath on her neck. The markings along her back seemed to hum faintly as the elf's lyrium infused skin brushed against her own. Unlike before where her lyrium marks felt a rush of coldness when they touched earlier, now it felt like a soft, pulsating warmth that spread over her body, calming her soul. There they lay, cradling each other gently, afraid to speak. Fenris leaned up against the headboard of the bed, wrapping his arms around her delicately, as if she would break.

 

Fenris' etched hand came into her line of vision, the light playing off his skin, entrancing her.

 

"If I sleep," she finally whispered, "I  _see_  things...I  _hear_  things... _awful_  things... I don't want to close my eyes..."

 

Fenris did not answer her right away, but began to softly stroke her hair.

 

Finally he spoke, unsure of himself, "There is a song that often helps me get to sleep when the nightmares plague me..."

 

Hawke waited until she felt Fenris take a deeper breathe. His voice was low and soothing, pleasing to her ears:

_"Come now, my Dear One, the dawn is near,_   
_dry your eyes now, my Dear One, there's nothing to fear._

_Soon now, my Dear One, a new day there will be,_   
_don't cry now, my Dear One, for my love you will always see."_

 

Fenris let his breath out slowly, he had never shared that song with anyone...he had never wanted to before now. Hawke lifted her head up to get a proper look at him. Her eyes were big, round, and seeking something in the expression in his face.

 

     She placed her fingers along his cheek, still searching his expression for any sign of rejection in them. She drew them down until they paused at the corners of his lips. They inched closer to each other, feeling the breath of the other on their face. Their lips touched lightly for the briefest second, sending both Fenris and Hawke's lyrium to flicker for a moment, the spark of their attraction made into a physical manifestation.

 

Leaning a bit more confidently against his warm, strong chest, Hawke closed her eyes, feeling her hair being stroked again slowly.

 

Both girl and elf drifted off to an easy sleep, surrounded by the dancing fires of candlelight.


	13. Cat for a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant to be read a bit different than previous ones in that, once you start reading about what happens in the clinic, it is not meant to be serious, but light and silly. It's not even crucial to the story, except the fact that Hawke gets over her fever and you find out a little more about Fenris . Even I can't write broody scenes all day! xD
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Song: "What's New Pussycat?" by Tom Jones

     Fenris awoke early the next morning, Hawke still with him. But somehow during the night, she had turned over and had her arms encircling his body, lying with her stomach on his chest in a hug. She had managed to tie her hair back into it's usual braided updo for the night, but a few strands of hair and fallen loose and delicately framed her face. Fenris breathed, inhaling her sweet, natural scent. He inhaled again, and closed his eyes. Hawke's response was to simply snuggle deeper into his bare chest.

_This is what it must feel like to wake up after...after..._

 

He refused to finish the thought, happy though it made him. Fenris had never had such thoughts before about what it would be like to be with a woman, and the frequency and the persistence of such thoughts that recently have been occupying most of waking (and, as of late, his sleeping) mind were strange and new to him.

 

Hawke was still fast asleep, the most peaceful he had ever seen her, but he slowly moved out from underneath her, careful not to wake her up. After all, it would have been beyond embarrassing for Fenris if she were to wake up while he was so... _uncomfortable_.

_Terrible...awful...I must have more self-discipline over my body and mind if I am to properly take care of her... I will not let my mind run wild on such things..._

 

     Searching the mansion once again to divert his wayward thoughts, Fenris happened upon decent cotton clothes that would suit him nicely: a beige long sleeved tunic, and olive green, loose-fitting pants made with winter fabric.

 

Over in the corner of Hawke's room (as he had begun to think of it), lay his hand bracers and other bits of his armor. It had seemed like forever since Fenris and Hawke had been out on a mission, effortlessly killing shades, bandits, or any sort of mythical creature that got in their way.

_And yet_ , Fenris thought silently as he examined his equipment, _It feels nice to have a few days where scrubbing caked on blood and gore out of my hair and skin is not part of my nightly routine._

 

Still, there was no use in being wreckless, not with Danarius still on the loose. His eyes darkened at the thought, and he picked up his greatsword to begin polishing it with fervor.

_I'll be ready for you, Danrius, just wait and see..._

 

With equipment fully polished and mended, Fenris crept back into the room way Hawke lay sleeping. She was not as peaceful as she looked when he left her earlier, but at least she was getting much needed rest. A flash took him back to one of his first memories.

_Nearly bedridden for a week...sometimes I think I shouldn't have even made it out of the ritual alive..._

 

He frowned when he saw her shivering even though she had many soft blankets wrapped around her.

 

     Hawke's vision began to solidify as she opened her eyes. Her body ached, but at least the nightmares weren't as vivid as the previous night's had been. The candles were now blown out, and the room was dark. Deep eyes were again close to her face.

 

"Ah, you're awake..." Fenris said, voice low and comforting.

 

Hawke shivered, feeling unwell yet again.

 

She felt Fenris' cool cheek pressed against her forehead, feeling for a fever.

 

"Our lyrium is too... _reactive_  to each other's, so gauging if you were still feverish would have been difficult. I thought doing it this way, by placing my skin on yours on places where the lyrium is absent would give me a proper indication of your health."

 

She was distracted by the vibrations his throat made against her skin to care whether she was still sick or not. His neck was so close to her mouth, it would take all but a breath's moment to have her lips there. Just as quickly, Fenris pulled his face away from hers, mouth still down-turned with concern.

 

"Your fever should have broken by now..." he said quietly, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

 

He looked at her for what seemed like a long time.

 

"I'll take you to the clinic..." Fenris finally commented, expressionless.

 

Hawke tried sitting up, her body still hurting slightly.

 

"But, you hate Anders...I think. Why take me?"

 

Sadness strained his face as he gazed back at her.

 

"I hate the abomination much less than I hate the feeling of...just the thought of losing you, Hawke..."

 

He stumbled with his words, and fell silent for a moment before continuing.

 

"I just can't..."

 

     Hawke stared at him, a look of vulnerability she had never seen before had washed over his face. Swinging her feet over and planting them on the floor, determined not to twitch in pain, she placed her hand on Fenris' shoulder.

 

"Don't fret over me, Fenris, I'm a big girl, right?"

 

She smiled as widely as her face would allow.

 

"Now, you got any comfy clothes for our little doctor's visit? Preferably the kind of clothes that won't have me in tears every time I move...that's getting a bit old, dontcha' think?"

 

Fenris' throaty laugh erased some of the lines of sadness. They went off in search of suitable clothes for Hawke to wear.

* * *

**::At the Clinic::**

* * *

 

"What did you  _do_  to her? She seems... not herself"

 

Hawke batted a hand at her reflection in the large mirror in the back of the room.

Anders searched his medical notes he had scattered around the clinic.

 

"The potion's name is 'Freyr's Calm'... there's got to be notes on it somewhere..."

 

He looked up to see Fenris standing near one of the examination tables that filled the room.

 

"Well, don't just stand there,  _help_  me find it."

 

     Blood rushed to Fenris' ears as his eyes darted to the piles of parchments and notebooks. His toes curled under the hard floor, a habit he often did when he was extremely nervous. He picked up a piece of paper as if to examine it.

_Scribbles..._

 

Another piece of paper.

_Scribbles..._

 

     He mimicked Anders' expression as he stared at the myriad of notes and papers in his hands. He squinted, moved his eyes across the page at what he thought was a reasonably normal pace, and furrowed his brow in attempted thought. He prayed to whatever god was listening that Anders wouldn't notice anything amiss.

 

"Ah, found it!" Anders suddenly exclaimed, holding up a long, yellowed, parchment scroll. His eyes scanned the document quickly.

 

Fenris eyed the action with more than a little envy. Anders mumbled as he searched for information.

 

"...Should be the consistency of rainwater blah blah... patient should be asleep when administering blah blah...ah, here," he finally slowed, using his fingers to trace along the page.

 

"Oh my...it's complicated as to why this happens, but it says here that the patient may experience the temporary sensation of adopting or anthropomorphizing the personality traits of the last species the patient interacted with who is of the same biological composition. Side-effects usually occur when patient has been exposed to another subject within the past 2-4 hours..."

 

Fenris growled angrily, "Save the big, impressive words for someone who  _cares_ , Abomination. Just tell me what's wrong with Hawke?"

 

Anders glanced up from his notes, wondering what had gotten the elf so worked up.

 

"Um, Fenris, who was the last female Hawke talked to within the last four hours?"

 

"No one."

 

Anders looked clearly confused.

 

"No one? Are you sure? Not her mother? Bethany? Even Isabella?"

 

"No, no one. She awoke, dressed, ate, and we made our way here."

 

"She didn't happen to bump into anyone while walking here, by chance?"

 

Fenris scowled.

 

"How many times I have to tell you, Abomination?  _No_... no one was anywhere near us it was so early in the blighted morning. We only stopped when Hawke bent down to pet a stray cat near the entrance here..."

 

Elf and mage exchanged glances, coming to the same realization: Hawke had turned into a cat for a day.

 

"Look at it this way, Fenris," Anders began, his voice on the verge of laughter.

 

"According to my notes, she'll only grow sharp claws and teeth for a few hours. At least she won't shed."

 

They both turned to look at Hawke-cat, who was now hissing at herself in the main clinic mirror.

* * *

 

"Hawke...Hawke...  _please_  don't do that," Fenris winced. "You're going to ruin the pants".

 

"Aww, she must really  _like_  you, elf! Look at her, all cute and 'makin' dough'... cats will only do that on people they like, you know..."

 

Anders' continued to coo at Hawke-cat as he patted her on head.

 

"Who's a pretty kitty? Who is?  _You_  are! Such a sweet kitty..."

 

     Fenris was less than amused. If it wasn't for Anders' helping Hawke get rid of her fever, he would have all too easily put him back in his place where he belonged. That place being far, far away from Hawke.

 

Fenris curled his lips in pain/amusement, however, as Hawke-cat continued to knead at the fabric of his pant's leg. He guessed she must like him a  _lot_  if what the abomination said was true.

 

"But...but my pants...she's shredding them to pieces with... _claws_..."

 

He tried to scoot himself away from her, but that only made Hawke-cat dig her sharp appendages deeper into the fabric, ripping it along the seam.

 

"You can't keep moving away from her, Fenris, otherwise she'll think it's a game."

 

"Who died and made you the expert on cats?" Fenris sneered as he tried to detach himself from Hawke's grasp.

 

"Watch..."

 

He dashed over to an old chest in the main room, and bounded over to Hawke once again. Excitement and happiness shined in his eyes.

 

"Here, kitty kitty! Anders has a little surprise for you!"

 

Hawke perked up suddenly in his direction.

 

"I will give you all of the gold in my possession if I never have to hear you use that high-pitched voice ever again..."

 

Something jingled in Ander's palm. Where he had gotten the toy, or how long it had been with him, Fenris did not know.

Hawke literally mewed with excitement.

 

"Meow!" Hawke-cat pounced on the shiny bell complete with long, faded ribbons.

 

"Looks like an old trinket you got there, Mage."

 

Anders stopped dangling the toy in front of Hawke-cat. She continued to swing her paw-like hands at it anyways.

 

"I wasn't kidding when I said I had a cat in the deep roads. I really do miss him, Ser Pounce-a-lot."

 

There was an awkward pause between them.

 

"Slaves were not permitted to have pets..."

 

Anders glanced at him sideways.

 

"So, you don't know anything about animals like cats, dogs, or even horses?"

 

Fenris studied his face. He looked genuinely curious.

 

"No."

 

Anders began twirling the ribboned bell toy again in earnest.

 

"Pity..." he began, not bothering to take his eyes off Hawke.

 

"Pets are wondrous things to have. Even if two people...or even a _group_ of people hate each other, bring in something cute and fluffy, and everyone can at least agree upon the fact that it is adorable and cuddly."

 

Fenris pondered his words, but refused to answer him. Just because he knew how to deal with cats, didn't mean Fenris suddenly  _liked_  the abomination.

 

     Word got around to Hawke's family and companions about her "situation". Leandra couldn't bear to visit her yet, for fear of bursting into tears, so as usual, she sent Bethany to see her.

"Just be glad her fever's broken, and her pain will subside as long as the potion remains in her system. The side effects only last for a few hours at best, with the potion working on her pain for at least 24 hours. The fever should dissipate, but of course, blood magic and all being there...I can't really say for certain." was all Anders could tell Bethany when she inquired about it.

* * *

 

"Kitty! Oh, Kit- - ty!" a voice yelled from the doorway of Anders' clinic.

 

Merrill, Isabella, and Varric tumbled into the clinic as a group, curious beyond words about how such a side-effect would play out with their friend.

Isabella began to sing merrily as she waltzed over to Hawke-cat,

 

"Pussycat, pussycat, I love you, yesss I do!"

She licked her teeth at Anders who hit his palm to his forehead. Of course Isabella would make something like this into a sexual innuendo.

 

"Is it always sex with you?"

 

"Not always," replied the pirate, placing a saucer she had brought with her on the ground next to Hawke-cat and proceeded to fill it up with sweet cream. Hawke-cat sniffed it delicately, wriggling her nose. Soon, she was lapping up the cream excitedly.

 

"See, even as a cat, having a bit of cream every now and then makes for a happy pus---"

 

"Me next, me next! I've brought a present for the kitty, too!" squealed Merrill, her happiness almost painful for Fenris to watch.

     

     Dumping an odd greenish grey blob-like substance into a bowl, she skipped over to Hawke-cat, and sat on the clinic floor. Sprawling out on her stomach with her elbows propping her up and her hands under her chin, Merrill giggled at her.

 

"Here, kitty, I brought you some Dalish food for the sick, it'll make you feel loads better! And, you just have to get better, you  _have_  to...I've been getting lost more and more around Kirkwall, and I miss sharing those yummy strawberries you pick up at that stall I can never find."

 

Everyone in the room, regardless of how they felt about Merrill's use of blood magic, felt sorry for her (even if Fenris would never admit it). Hawke had been her closest friend.

 

Hawke-cat mewed her thanks once again, and hurriedly ate the odd food Merrill had presented her.

* * *

 

     Hawke-cat yawned in Anders' face, she was bored.

"Maker's breath, kitty, what did Merrill bring you to eat!?"

 

Varric, meanwhile, had brought a cloth he had stuffed with catnip, and after a hugely entertaining reaction from Hawke-cat which included her trying to chase her non-existent tail and swat at Fenris' pointed ears, Hawke-cat gave up, and curled up side-by-side next to Merrill in the sleeping quarters of the clinic. The rest of her companions gathered casually in the main waiting room.

 

"Scratch her behind the ears, Sweetness, cats like that," Isabella whispered to Fenris.

 

She laughed as she saw Fenris' face turn red at the thought.

 

"I will do no such thing."

 

"Suit yourself. We're heading over to the Hanged Man, wanna come? Merrill can look after her..."

 

     When he didn't answer or budge, Isabella took the hint (she didn't think he'd come, anyway), and the party exited the clinic moments later.

Fenris was alone in the sleeping quarters with Hawke-cat and Merrill. Slowly, he reached a tentative hand behind Hawke's ear, and stroked it gently.

  
Hawke-cat  _purred_.

 

A genuinely wide smile cracked Fenris' usually solemn demeanor.

_At least her fever is gone...and the purring is insatiably cute...but I am glad I did not decide to wear my usual, good clothes today..._


	14. Just One of Those Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 14! Another fluff chapter building up to more darker moments to come. Thanks for all the reviews as always!
> 
> Chapter Song: "Understanding" by Evanescence (Youtube has videos with the lyrics to the song)
> 
> Enjoy!

Luckily (or some might say, unluckily), the potion's side-effects wore off as promised, and Hawke lay sleeping in the Clinic. Her fever had dissipated, and only she and Fenris remained in the small sleeping quarters. Anders begrudgingly left in a huff to pick up some more medical supplies and herbs when Fenris barked at him for trying to move Hawke into the main waiting area. The elf and girl were now alone. But once Hawke woke up, the peace was once again disturbed.

* * *

"I believe it best, yes..."

Hawke couldn't understand.

"Was it something I said? Something I did? Something to anger you?" Hawke rambled, watching the patterns of lyrium move across her hands as she spoke.

Fenris winced slightly. The pleading phrases spilling out of Hawke's mouth sounded all too familiar to him for it to be a mere coincidence.

"No, you are mistaken. Perhaps I misspoke. I would want nothing more than to..."

He stopped. What  _did_  he want? For Hawke to stay cooped up in his old mansion, separated from a family that exists practically next door? For her to remain cut off from even understanding her friends because she could no longer understand her own mother tongue? No, that wasn't a life Fenris wanted for her. He wanted her to smile again, to be happy again - - - he wanted to get her old life back for her.

She waited in earnest for an answer. She saw his expression shift as he turned to her.

"You have not angered me. I merely meant that your family must miss having their daughter at home. Staying with them might bring back some memories for you..."

Hawke remained still for a while, than began to redo the braids in her hair slowly. Fenris watched her, but could not tell what she was thinking.

_I used to be so adept at understanding the look in her eyes, and now...she's like a mystery..._

Finishing, Hawke looked back, a smile pushing through onto her face.

"What's a good place to get a hot drink?"

Fenris held out his hand to Hawke as he helped her get up from her napping spot, relieved she was getting her appetite back.

"I think I know of a place..."

* * *

Looking up at the grey, overcast sky of midday, Hawke shivered as the cold air brushed up against her skin. Winter was definitely in full force this time of the year.

"Do you think I'll ever remember how to speak that other language...the one my family uses?"

She and Fenris were now walking back towards Hightown to The Round Table, a quaint outdoor eatery in the middle of town. Hightown was unusually quiet for the time of day, with people choosing to remain indoors to escape the cold.

"Truthfully, I do not know," Fenris began, walking around a corner and motioning for her to follow him, "But, if you can not remember, then perhaps your family could re-teach you. I know your sister, Bethany, would most likely excel in such an area..."

Fenris bit back a snide remark he nearly added about Bethany's use of magic as he looked in her direction. Hawke's expression remained unchanged as she walked beside the elf.

"I suppose so..."

"Here we are," Fenris said, happy for a shift in subject. As expected, all the tables at the eatery were round in shape, but differed in terms of size and texture. A woman with short, cropped, blonde hair led the two companions over to a small two-person table made of a mixture of stone and wood.

"Welcome to The Round Table, I'm Cassandra," The woman chirped in a fake, bubbly voice.

She stared at Fenris, her eyes focusing on his pointed ears, marked arms, and the huge broadsword strapped to his back. Fenris cleared his throat, forcing her to say something to end the awkward silence.

"Would you care for something to drink?" Cassandra asked, turning her body in such a way as to be only addressing Fenris.

"Two hot apple ciders."

Seeing as the elf wasn't going to pursue further conversation with her, Cassandra scuttled off to fetch their order, pouting in disappointment.

Hawke looked around, examining her surroundings, from the various tables and chairs that littered the area to the shopping stalls not far from where they sat. The workers at The Round Table were all staring at the elf and girl, many of them exchanging hushed whispers with one another. Elanna's ears burned as she become extremely self-conscious about her appearance. Hawke tried to tune out the fear rising in her consciousness by focusing her attention elsewhere.

"Fenris?"

"Yes?"

"Is there anything, you know...physically, that doesn't hurt for us to touch?"

"Ah," Fenris sighed, leaning slowly against his chair in thought. He paused before answering her, rubbing his nose as he formed a reply.

"There are some things that don't hurt, like feathers of certain birds and the furs of certain animals, for instance. But these things are few and far between, unfortunately. Everything causes some amount of pain, but some things hurt more than others to feel or touch."

"But you don't look like you're in pain at all..." Hawke replied, studying him as he sat comfortably across from her.

"I've had many years of practice..."

Looking up at the sky once again, Hawke remained in quiet reflection.

"Two apple ciders here," Cassandra called, waltzing over to the table and placing the drinks in front of them.

Hawke watched the steam rise up from their drinks with happy excitement, while Fenris studied her with unexpressed amusement. From all that Fenris could gather, Hawke seemed to have retained all of her past likes and dislikes, but due to her memory loss, she now had to "rediscover" all of them. Fenris couldn't help but to admit that he found the process of Hawke trying everything again for the first time fascinating.

Elanna crinkled her nose as she inhaled the aroma of the drink in front of her. Looking back up at Fenris, she saw him sipping his own beverage with reserve, his eyes locked on her expression. Tentatively, she wet her tongue with the drink, the fresh smell of apples enveloping her senses of smell and taste. She closed her eyes in pleasure as she hummed her satisfaction.

"Ah, this is excellent," she said, taking another sip. "So warm and apple-y..."

Fenris gazed at her sideways, resting his head on his hands.

"Apple cider..." he said, forming the word for the drink slowly in the common tongue of Kirkwall.

"Apple...apple...what?" Hawke repeated in a mixture of the common tongue and Tevene between swallows.

She heard him chuckle.

"Apple is a good start, we can stop it there for now."

"Well, whatever it's called, it's really delicious..."

"Yes, I completely agree..."

* * *

Having been warmed by their drinks, Hawke walked over to the shopping stalls around the area with Fenris at her side, somewhat uncomfortable with the turn of events. He lingered behind Hawke as she made her way to a nearby clothing stall.

_Great, shopping...my least favorite thing in Thedas to do as a free elf..._

 

Hawke's fingers flowed through various silks and cottons, the kind worn by ladies of the high court in Kirkwall. Her eyes wandered over the elegant purples, royal blues, and delicate pinks, feeling them in between her hands. The thin veil of pain was still apparent on her face, but Fenris noticed Hawke seemed to be getting accustomed to hiding it. The head seamstress eyed her nervously, her gaze darting from her tattooed hands to the eerie, luminescent shade of Hawke's eyes.

"Anything interests you?"

Normally such a question would never have left Fenris's lips, but for the life of him, he could not read the expression on Hawke's face. It was becoming more of a common thing for him ever since the night Danarius branded her, and it irked him. It seemed to Fenris that all he could do lately was stare at her intently, hoping to figure her out.

"Did I like things like...like this?" She said quietly, almost to herself as she slowly stroked the delicate lace of a parasol.

Fenris rubbed the back of his neck, unsure. "Women usually like such frilly things if I am not mistaken..."

Hawke responded with a small, "Hmm...", but kept her eyes scanning the various wares at the stalls. Walking slowly and carefully, she picked up silk after silk of bright, vibrant, happy colors, putting them all down without a second glance. Fenris was pleased to see, however, that Hawke seemed to be particularly drawn to the dark colored fabrics on display for sale.

_At least some things won't ever change..._

 

Hawke stopped, gazing somewhat longingly at the weapons' stall adjacent to the fabrics. No doubt these two stalls had been situated side by side to attract warriors to the weapons, and their wives, mistresses, or girlfriends to the fabrics close by. The weapons' stall owner sat behind the stall, mending leatherwork. The man was a hardened, muscular type, with a thick salt and peppered beard and cracked, leathery hands. He looked up when he saw Hawke pick up two blades to inspect them.

"Them's not toys, Missy..."

The rest of his insult was silenced, however. Hawke stood in front of him, twirling two butterfly knives with ease and agility, flipping them in and out over her fingers as if it were a second nature to her. Fenris remained captivated as she tossed the blades so hard into the air they seemed to hover in place before catching them again, unscathed.

"The weight's off," she muttered nonchalantly as she walked away.

"Wait, wait, Messere, I see you are a woman of skill," the man said hurriedly, fumbling around one of the chests lining the back of the stall.

Heaving it onto a nearby table, Hawke turned around slightly, intrigued again despite not knowing exactly what the man said.  
Fishing a large key out of his coat pocket, the stall merchant opened the chest in front of her, gesturing Hawke to come back.  
Fenris stepped aside to let her examine the chest's contents.

"By the Maker's good graces..." Hawke commented in aspiration.

Lifting several items out of the chest, Fenris noticed it was a set of rogue's armor and weapons, all in matching shades of deep red and black.  
Hawke was enchanted. Fingering the armor lightly, she felt the cool metal of the many buckles and belts that adorned a chest piece, wrist guards, and leg protectors. Once the armor had been laid out on the table, Hawke's eyes lit up as the stall master began to display the matching pieces of various weapons in the set. From the spiked shoulder equipment, to the dangerously curved katana-like blades and butterfly knives, Hawke inspected them all.

It was all perfect.

Another emotion flickered in Hawke's expression.

"I'm sorry...I can't..." she whispered, shoving the items away from her grasp as if they were snakes.

Walking briskly away from the stall, Fenris was forced to mutter his apologizes, and chase after her. The chantry bells rang out, signaling the end of the noontime worship service. Fenris cringed.

_Venhedis..._

People poured out of the various worship halls situated around Hightown with some heading straight home while others, particularly ladies, clustered in groups to go shopping. The horde of people filled the streets, separating Fenris from Hawke. He called out to her, but her figure was swallowed up in the masses.

Keeping her eyes down and staring unseeingly at the cobblestone street at her feet, Hawke wanted to break out into a run.

_I'm a... a fighter? I killed people..._

A face sparked her memory: a young man with unruly dark black hair and eyes that matched the light brown of her sister.

_Did I kill him? He looks so much like Bethan- - -_

"Ouch, watch it!"

She was jolted out of her thoughts as she ran into a young girl causing her to trip and fall.

"I'm sorry," Hawke began in Tevene as she extended her hand to help the her up. The girl, dressed in a fine light blue worship outfit stared at Hawke's hand, her eyes running up to her face and eyes.

"Blood witch!" she screamed, backing up incredibly fast while trying to get back on her feet.

Hawke straightened herself up as she watched the blue lace of the girl's dress disappear into the back of the crowd. Everyone was staring at her now, eyeing her every move with fear. She couldn't understand the people that parted nervously out of her way, avoiding her as if she were some diseased animal. The crowd enveloped her in a circle, walking at arm's length away from her, their eyes still following Hawke.

_I need some air...I need to get out of here, I need..._

She felt Fenris' strong hand grasp her own, and a feeling of icy coolness began to run through her veins.

"Stay close to me..." Fenris whispered in her ear, trying to draw her to himself as they continued to walk, "These people don't matter... ignore them..."

The crowd swelled shut once again, the elf and girl were now in the empty space with people on all sides of them. The low jeering and gossiping voices were promptly quieted, however, when Fenris glared at them, and made sure sure they knew he was well armed and dangerous.

"Stupid...can't even be embarrassed without people gaping at me now..."

Fenris released her hand and continued to walk beside her, chuckling bitterly to himself once they had past the gawking crowds.

"Yeah, I know..."

* * *

_Pop!_  The cork to a wine bottle shot out across the mansion's great room, rolling idly across the cold marble tile. The gurgling sound of pouring alcohol echoed in the large mansion. Normally, Fenris would revel in the dark quietness of such a moment, but now, the silence filling the mansion seemed odd to his ears. Night had fallen, and the slivered, crescent moon hung low in the sky.

"Wonder how Hawke's coming along with her family..." he said to no one in particular.

After the incident in town, Fenris and Hawke hurried to get back to her uncle's home (if you could even call it that). When Hawke showed up at their door, Leandra had answered, and was quick to wrap her arms around her daughter, unintentionally catching Fenris in a tight hug as well (with both of them trying not to writhe in pain).

Once the pleasantries were over, Fenris spoke to Bethany, and suggested she get some potions made to allow the mage to understand her sister. But, to Fenris' surprise, Bethany was already one step ahead of him as she revealed that she had Anders make her the same potion in bulk ever since she found out Hawke could no longer understand the common tongue. Although Fenris could not bring himself to think fondly of Bethany due to the fact that she was a mage, he did respect the younger Hawke for the dedication and love she showed her elder sibling. Fenris had then made his way back to his own residence, pushing down the feeling of sadness welling up in his mind.

Dragging his favorite chair in front of the main hearth, The elf set about starting a large fire. Once the fire was roaring, Fenris scouted the house once again, looking for something Hawke had reminded him of earlier in their conversations. After a while, he settled into his chair, already on his second glass of wine.

_Aggregio...Danarius' specialty..._

Taking a gulp from the wine glass in his hand, Fenris savoured the rich, velvety texture.

_Glad I can still take pleasure in the small things..._

Jerking his head suddenly, something crossed the elf's awareness.

"What the..."

Fenris's ears strained to hear a soundless melody that seemed to be approaching the direction of the mansion.  
The sound continued to grow stronger, although Fenris wasn't sure if he heard a sound at all. Creeping towards front windows, he peered out onto the street, certain he was about to be ambushed.

" _Fasta vass_ , it's blighted cold out here..."

Fenris instantly calmed as he let out a sigh of relief and opened the mansion door. He walked out to find Hawke standing in the middle of the street. She was dressed in a simple sleeping outfit of a black winter top and matching long pants that were comfortably loose, but still showed the curves of her figure nicely. Hawke had turned her back toward him as if meaning to walk in the opposite direction until Fenris stopped her.

"Hawke? What are you doing here?"

She slowly turned and, in feigned surprise, put her hands to her mouth.

"Oh Fenris! I didn't know I was already this far away from Lowtown. I...I'm lost?"

Fenris glanced down at her feet, and tried to not smile at her slippers which were fashioned to look like birds (no doubt, hawks) on her feet. He looked back up at her. Hawke's smile was replaced with defiance.

"Bethany made them," she said tersely, realizing what he was looking at. Her expression shifted once again to embarrassment as her voice softened, " I slept, and I dreamed, but...m-my screaming woke everyone up. Uncle kept pointing and saying things, Mother wouldn't stop crying so...so I just left."

A million responses flooded Fenris' mind on what he should say to comfort her, for he didn't want the situation to be any more awkward than it already was.

"You're in luck then," Fenris began, cracking a sly smile.

She returned the smile, but her face showed her confusion.

"I've just opened a bottle of the best wine in all of Thedas, Aggregio Pavali," he said as he gestured for her to walk towards the mansion. "Care to join me? I find the wine to be a great resource to dull the lyrium... along with anything else unpleasant, of course."

Hawke didn't answer, but was beyond relieved when he offered to keep her company. She felt her heart flutter when Fenris' strong hand graced her back as he lead her towards the mansion.

"How is it I always seem to end up back here?"

The elf shrugged.

"Birds of a feather stay together, or something like that. We're not birds, so I'm not altogether sure if the saying is appropriate at this moment."

Fenris was pleased to see her grin up at him. It had never occurred to him that another human being, or any being for that matter, would ever find him genuinely humorous.

* * *

"It's just one of those days, you know?" Hawke sighed, downing what was now her third glass of wine.

"Trust me, I understand..." He replied, taking a swig of wine straight from the bottle at this point.

The both of them sat near the fire, Hawke lying down on her stomach, cushioned by furs that lined the area, and Fenris leaning up against the back of his oversized chair as he sat near her. They listened to the fire crackle as they indulged themselves. Fenris looked over at Hawke, her cheeks flushed with color, and realized she was staring at him.

"What? What are you looking at?"

Hawke shifted and looked around her to see if anyone was listening. She kept her voice so low, and Fenris had to lean in slightly to hear her.

"Can you keep a secret?"

His heart leapt into his throat.

"Yes."

Hawke bent a finger in his direction, gesturing silently.

"Come here..." She whispered finally.

Fenris obeyed.

" _Closer_..." she breathed.

Fenris moved so close to her face he could feel her breath on his skin.

"Did you know that..."

Her breath was in his ear now, warm and low.

"Yes...?" He heard his own voice break softly.

Hawke cupped her hands over the elf's pointed ear, blocking the sound from outside listeners.

"...your hair is  _silver_?!"

He laughed deeply in spite of himself.

"Really? I had no inclination of such a thing."

"I wish  _I_  had silver hair..." Hawke lamented jokingly, patting her own hair for effect. "I'd be messing with it all the time..."

"You can satisfy your curiosity with mine if you wish."

Hawke turned to him in surprise, her eyes dancing in the firelight.

Reaching up, she slowly placed her fingers on a part of Fenris' silver hair that had fallen over his eyes. Hawke smiled, shyly at first, then more comfortably as she lifted up piece, dropped it, and then repeated the motion.

_It's so soft..._

Fenris heard her actually giggle, sounding much more like the woman he knew before Danarius had kidnapped her. It was a giggle Hawke had made him swear on his life that he would not reveal to any one of their companions because she had said it sounded too "girly" for a seasoned fighter like herself.

It must have been the effects of the wine giving Fenris unusual bravery. Impulsively he took Hawke's hands in his and ruffled his hair violently underneath her fingertips. The two laughed again, most likely due to the amount of alcohol in both their systems.

"Messy enough for you?" Fenris asked, amazed by how out of character he always seemed to act around the rogue woman.

Hawke was inches away from his face, her eyes bright and happy once again for a brief moment. Their eyes met, and her previous demeanor seemed to quiet as she glanced up at Fenris' smirking face. She tilted her head to gaze up at his disheveled hair, unblinking. Fenris saw her bite her lip as he looked at her.

Fenris wasn't sure who moved first, but he leaned forward either to receive Hawke's kiss or to kiss her himself. The sweet spiciness of the wine on her lips intoxicated him further, and he moved closer, placing a hand on her cheek. He felt her fingers continuing to run their way through his hair, stopping to massage the tips of his pointed ears.

Hawke was pleased to discover how much this seemed to have affected him, as she felt the elf warrior shudder slightly, feeling his tongue,warm and soft, in her mouth for the first time. She felt every place where their bodies touched: from his hands moving down the curve of her back, to her stomach and thighs brushing up against Fenris' toned body. And although they moved with passion and heat, Hawke felt gentle hands move over her body with reverence, as if the elf had never felt something so lovely in his life.

"Oh..." Fenris said quietly, breaking his mouth away momentarily. He laced their hands together, fixated and curious.

Hawke opened her eyes, realizing the lyrium on their bodies glowed faintly with a steady, shimmering light. Hawke couldn't help but notice she shone a whitish silver while Fenris glowed bright blue, but where their hands connected, the colors melted into each other seamlessly. She wiggled her fingers in Fenris' hand as she stifled a laugh. Although her lyrium was activated, it wasn't a searing, burning, or agonizing pain. Rather, she felt warm and giddy, the lyrium practically singing her excitement in physical form.

"Aren't we quite the pair?" She teased, releasing Fenris's hand so she could run her fingers over his collarbone, noticing his skin react once more.

Fenris watched her with something akin to awe. She glowed as well, but smiling as she did, she looked unworldly and divine. He'd give anything to see her smile like that more often.

"Never knew kissing like this could be so fun...especially if we get a light show like this."

Fenris's smiled lopsidedly, a subdued laugh deep in his chest.

"It is entertaining, that we can be certain..."

His eyes wandered over the contours of her body, tracing the ironically elegant patterns the lyrium made on her skin. Not all of the wine in Thedas could give Fenris the feeling he felt now.

_Is it really possible for me to be happy...to be truly happy? Even though it is my fault she is suffering, she still looks at me like...like a truly matter..._

"You really are a beautiful woman, Hawke..."

Elanna took another gulp of the wine bottle closest to her, her eyes back to the fire blazing in front of them.

"At least you think so..."

He blinked back his surprise.

_I should have known... here I am lamenting my own state,my own fears and insecurities. But Elanna...she's just as scared as I am._

His eyes softened, as he placed a finger under her chin, lifting it up until silver eyes refocused on him. Leaning closer, he kissed her forehead, then slowly moved his lips over both of her eyes.

Fenris saw her smile again, her eyes alight with gratefulness - - - and that was enough for him.

_Varric may say what he wishes about my character is his blighted book, but...I won't leave you...not now...not ever._

Of course, just because Fenris felt that sentiment, didn't mean he wasn't scared of such strong emotions. He was scared - - - paralyzingly terrified of losing Hawke, of having her cast him away in rejection, even of losing himself in the whole situation. As a warrior elf, slave to Danarius, Fenris had hardened himself from fear, and yet, looking down at the serene woman wrapped in his arms, he could feel his stomach tied in knots, and his palms damp in a cold sweat. He still had no memory of what he had been like as a boy, so romantic crushes and feelings associated with that time of his life had also been lost to him. One thing was for certain, however: Fenris had never been so - - -taken - - - by another person in his life.

* * *

Looking down at the bed, Hawke wasn't sure she was ready to try sleeping again just yet.  
She turned towards the window as the Chantry bells sounded. It was an hour before the midnight call.

"Room looks nice..." she commented, noticing the swept floor and the absence of glass shards and dust.

Fenris remained quiet as his eyes followed her. Hawke walked over to the open window, looking out once again into the night sky.

Without looking back at Fenris, she began speaking again, "When you're close to me...when we are actually touching, I mean... I don't hurt so much..."

Fenris put a hand on her shoulder, realizing his musings had been correct. He said the first thought that came to his mind, "I will be by your side until you command me away."

Hawke nodded, suddenly timid. Wordlessly, the elf and girl settled into bed, Fenris making sure Hawke's pain was minimal. He sighed as he allowed his body to relax.

"Won't ever happen..." He finally heard her whisper.

It was the second night they spent in each other's arms, but it felt to them both as if they had belonged there from the beginning. Several times in the night, if either one of them awoke from nightmares or restlessness, it was only a short time before they would drift off back to sleep, huddled in each other's embrace.

* * *

"Hawke...Hawke...  _Elanna_..."

Her vision blurred and steadied.

"Wha? What's wrong, what's happened?" She slurred as she tried to wipe her eyes unsuccessfully.

"Follow me..." Fenris whispered hurriedly, taking her hand, and gently tugging to get her out of bed.

Hawke shivered as she planted her feet on the wooden floor of the bedroom. Exhaling, her breath made a small cloud that hovered near her mouth. Wrapping a blanket around her, Fenris and Hawke nearly jogged out to the mansion's courtyard entrance, their footsteps echoing around them. But, just before they reached the doorway, Fenris twisted around suddenly. Hawke peered at him curiously.

"You seem... _excited_?"

She could see him grinning unusually wide even in the darkness.

"Close your eyes..." Fenris said, shielding Hawke's eyes from view, and leading her outside by the hand.

Once outside, Hawke felt Fenris move away from her.

"Okay, you can look now..."

"Oh, wow..." Hawke exclaimed.

There in the open stood Fenris, snowflakes drifting silently around him.

_It's...it's snowing!_  Hawke thought excitedly as she watched the snowflakes fall harder and harder onto the ground, blanketing the already white covered ground with more layers of softness.

Fenris called her over, sensing her hesitation.

"This is one thing that  _doesn't_  hurt at all... come and give it a try, Hawke..."

Shutting her eyes nervously, Hawke stepped out from under the protective awning of the entrance, her shoulders tensed and her breath held. Slowly, she cracked one eye open, seeing Fenris still standing some distance away from her, cupping his hands to let the snow pool into them. Opening her eyes completely, she looked at her arms and hands. Expecting to feel some amount of pain from the snow hitting her skin, she continued to hold her breath.

"It...it doesn't hurt, you're  _right_!" She said, completely lost in the moment. She felt like singing again, she felt like dancing again, she felt like - - -

"Hawke?"

She turned in the direction of Fenris's voice, and he dumped an armful of powdery snow on top of her head, smirking.

"Now your hair's silver, too."


	15. Two Steps Back

     "Andraste's tits, Varric, you told me you had found a third partner!" A dwarf said, angrily yanking at his beard in frustration.

  

     "Something came up these past weeks. Just keep your beard on, and everything'll work out if you just leave it to me. After all, I've got all the looks in the family..." Varric said with a chuckle.

 

The dwarf threw up his hands and spat on the ground.

 

     "Yes, laugh it up! What other use are you to the world, you baby-assed Mama's Boy..."

 

     "Now now Bertrand, Mother didn't raise no fool...well at least not two of em'. I'll get you the coin we need, just give it time..."

 

     "Time... _Time_?! How much more shitty time do you need?!"

 

     "Two weeks, Brother, is all I'm asking for," Varric replied, pretending to plead and beg.

 

     "Humph, I should just leave you and your schemes to rot in the Deep Roads if we ever get there."

 

     "That's the stuff, Bertrand, dream big!" Varric quipped as the two parted ways.

 

It was time Varric paid Hawke a business call.

 

* * *

 

     "The...the what?"

 

Hawke and several of her companions gathered that morning at the Hanged Man under Varric's request. They all had passed around the draught to make themselves understandable to Hawke, but time was limited.

 

     "Ah, your memory's failing you, but luckily for you, my dear roguish lady-friend, your Varric is here to help you remember.

 

     "And what if she doesn't want to go anymore, Dwarf?"

 

Fenris stood at a distance from the rest of the party, quietly observing everything until that moment.

 

     "Ah, quit your brooding, Elf, this is just what she needs! A night out on the town to get the blood pumping again!"

 

     "You mean a few months' worth of fighting darkspawn and demons in the Deep Roads..."

 

     "Semantics, semantics, nobody's got time for that," Varric replied merrily as he waved a hand in dismissal.

 

He motioned for Hawke to peer at a book he was holding.

 

     "Lookie here, Hawke, it's all in this journal see? And being the kind, generous noble dwarf that I am..."

 

Fenris snorted.

 

     "I will tell you what it says..."

 

Something shone deep in Hawke's eyes as the dwarf relayed all of their previously settled plans about entering the Deep Roads in search of money, jewels, and Maker knows what else. Everything was prepared and ready to go. All Varric needed now was a signature from Hawke and those that wished to join her on the trip.

 

Hawke looked at Fenris, who looked less than thrilled.  She decided to ignore him, and clapped her hands in mischievous delight.

 

     "Let's do it!" She cried, reaching into her pocket and retrieving her wax signing stamp that was shaped like the Amell family crest.

 

     "There's the Hawke I know!"

 

      "Then who would you suggest I bring?" Hawke said, looking over various maps scattered across the wooden table where they had gathered later that day.

 

Isabela joined their table, and had ordered a tray of sandwiches for everyone.

 

     "Broody, of course...he'd probably come anyways whether he was invited or not...

 

     "I'm standing right here, Dwarf..."

 

Varric winked in his direction.

 

     "Don't think Blondie's gunna' wanna join since he hates the Deep Roads...won't hurt to ask him though..."

 

_ Great...more time with the abomination. What company she keeps... _

 

Isabela laughed and slapped Varric on the back playfully, pulling Fenris away from his thoughts.

 

     "Well, the Deep Roads aren't exactly a romp in the sand are they?"

 

     "And Daisy...well poor Daisy is more delicate than you are, Hawke, so no point in spoiling her rosy outlook on the world when we're already doing that with you."

 

     "I'm not delicate..." Hawke argued.

 

     "Of course not, Lovely..." Isabela cooed, patting her on the knee.

 

     "You're just like a deadly cat that needs her claws resharpened. Right, Fenny?"

 

     "How many times have I told you _not_ to call me that?"

 

     "Spoilsport," Isabela pouted, throwing a crumpled napkin at Fenris.

 

Hawke was beyond ecstatic. These last few weeks, she had felt unproductive and fragile, but pouring over maps with Varric at the Hanged Man conjured up nostalgic emotions for her. Hawke felt more like her old self than she had in ages, and she enjoyed the feeling.

 

     "Are you sure you're up for this?"

 

Elanna's determined and unwavering eyes stared up at Fenris who was leaning up against the wall in the shadows.

 

     "Come with me if you're so afraid I'll be crying for home after the first day."

 

Fenris couldn't tell if she was pleading for him to go with her, or insulting him to stay away.

 

     "You don't even know how to use the lyrium properly, yet..."

 

     "Now's a good a time as any to learn," Hawke began, turning her eyes back to one of the large maps.

 

She heard him walk towards her, but refused to acknowledge his presence.

 

     "Why are you pushing this? What if something happens to you?" Fenris said quietly, now standing next to her as she sat studying the documents.

 

When Hawke finally did respond, her voice was barely able to be heard.

 

     "I am getting tired of you coddling me, Fenris. I can take care of myself whether you think I can or not..."

 

Fenris didn't answer her.

 

* * *

 

     The morning wore on, and Varric had sent an errand boy to get Merrill and Anders to stop by the Hanged Man for their talk. Fenris had left some time earlier without so much as a goodbye to any of them.

 

_ Just because he isn't excited, doesn't mean that I can't be... _

 

     Anders and Merrill did show up, and after reviewing their plans, and discussing who should go along with Hawke (Anders volunteered, although he made it known that Justice was seriously displeased at the notion of returning to the Deep Roads), they all sat around the table eating and drinking. Merrill looked completely terrified at the thought of spending so much time there, so Hawke took Varric's advice and did not ask her to come against her nature. The draughts had worn off by this time, so Hawke was left to read over the maps alone while everyone else continued to talk animatedly.

 

     Heavy footsteps made Hawke look up to see Fenris approaching the party. He threw a set of armour onto the table in front of them, crumpling the maps underneath the weight.

 

     "Put these on."

 

Merrill noticed Hawke's face turn red with embarrassment.

 

     "I don't see what you're trying to prove- - -"

 

     "Put it on."

 

The cold, brusque tone in the elf's voice made everyone at the table stop talking. They stared at Fenris, whose determined scowl was focused solely on Hawke.

 

     She tried not to show how difficult it was to buckle her rogue's gear. What could have previously been thought of as quite comfortable armour now filled her with dread: all of the buckles and latches standard in such equipment caused Hawke severe and burning pain as she tried to tighten them. She slowly attempted the first buckle on her arm guards, pressing her lips together tightly. Fenris watched Hawke as she struggled with her gear, and did not offer to help her, or to tell her that she was, in fact, putting the gear on backwards.

 

     Hawke suddenly pushed the everything away, knocking her chair over as she stood.

 

     "Fine! I get it, I'm worthless now! I'll never get my family out of Uncle's shit shack, and I'll never be able to protect Bethany or my mother if harm should come to them!"

 

The lyrium activated in Hawke's body, her eyes disappearing in an angry, fiery glow.

 

     " _You_ go to the Deep Roads, Fenris, you'd probably get more enjoyment out of it than I could since I don't even know what in the Void I like anymore! Go, leave, and find all the riches and glory you want!"

 

Everyone at the table looked from Hawke's furious stance to Fenris's surprised reaction. She sneered.

 

      "I mean, what use _am_ I to you like this, right? I can't help you with anything anymore, not like I can blighted remember a damned thing about what goals you were bent on achieving before all this..."

 

It wasn't like Hawke to be so loud and vulgar in a public place, but she couldn't help it. She had to say something, and lucky for her, only Fenris could understand her ranting. She slammed her hands on the table in front of her.

 

     "What good am I to you!? What good am I to _anyone_..."

 

     "Hawke, that's not what I- - -"

 

She was gone.

 

     "Maker, now she's ten times scarier when she's mad..." Anders commented as he thoughtfully touched the now charred spot where Hawke had been leaning on just moments ago.

 

     "I didn't really catch the conversation, but it didn't look like it ended well. I don't understand why she wants to push all of us away..." Merrill said sadly as she covered her face with her hands.

 

     "It'll take awhile, Daisy, but she'll come around..."

 

* * *

 

     "Just go to her, Broody..."

 

Varric watched as Fenris gulped down his third glass of wine since Hawke left.

 

     "I can't go after her now...she doesn't want me anywhere near her. I'd be just 'coddling' her as she so rightly put it..."

 

     "She's just scared, ya' know..."

 

The quiet, small voice was coming from Merrill. Everyone turned to look at her.

 

     "On the verge of everything she ever wanted before, and now she can't reach it. I may not understand what she says, but I do know how she was before, all smiles and good jokes. She always talked about you ever since the first day you two met."

 

Fenris cleared his throat by coughing into his fisted hand.

 

     "Merrill's right..." Isabela agreed, unusually serious.

 

     "All Hawke ever wanted to do was to help you out with this whole Danarius business. And now...well let's just say the last thing she'd ever want would be for you to be serving someone like her as if you were a slave all over again..."

 

Fenris muttered darkly, the word "stubborn" being the only discernible thing out of his mouth.

 

     "If she could at least get her language skills restored, perhaps it would help her to heal..." Anders added, concentrating on polishing the blue jewel embedded in his mage's staff.

 

     "Let me guess," Fenris growled, "more magic?"

 

     "Yes, more magic, I am a mage, after all...why not use my Maker given gifts?"

 

     "For what? To become possessed by a demon like all the other mages in the Imperium? I weep for your predicament."

 

     "No you mule, to help those in need."

 

The chair scraped noisily as Anders hurried to get to the exit, hoping to find Hawke.

 

     "And if this is what she needs, then Maker be damned if I'm not going to get it done."

 


	16. Two Steps Back (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unwén= 'Friend of the gods' (or in our case, 'Friend of the Maker')
> 
> Chapter Song: "Lost in Paradise": Evanescence

     Elanna wandered the streets for some time, not really noticing where her feet were taking her.

 

     "Stupid, braid..." she hissed to herself as she took her anger out on her hair, tugging madly at the woven pieces holding it up.

 

Her hair fell loosely past her shoulders, and Hawke crumbled the hair ribbon and stuffed it in her pocket. She pressed onward until the smell of brine and seaweed filled her lungs.

 

     Anders searched all of Lowtown to no avail. Passing the shops in Hightown, he didn't see any sign of Hawke there, either. Even Fenris' mansion, where he knew she had been staying for the past few weeks, remained empty and vacant. Walking away from the city, Anders headed for the Wounded Coast.  There he found Hawke, sitting on a dried log, and gazing at the ocean. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were flushed.

 

     Taking a sip from the vial he had at his hip, Anders took off his shoes, and walked through the sand to meet her. He offered a handkerchief to Elanna.

 

     "Ladies should never be given a reason to cry."

 

     "I'm no lady..." Hawke whispered bitterly as she dried her eyes. "But...but thanks."

 

An unusually loud sound echoed around them as she blew her nose. They both laughed softly.

 

     "I think you may be possessed by an elephant spirit, Hawke."

 

This just made her laugh even more, although Anders could see it physically pained her to do so.

 

     "This is sickening," Hawke said, her eyes meeting Anders' for the first time. "In all my life, I can count the number of times I have cried on one hand, and now...now look at me..."

 

     "You mustn't be too hard on yourself," the mage said gently as he sat down beside her. "What you've had to go through is unimaginable. I just hope that you don't let this sour your whole outlook on mages."

 

Elanna paused, and looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

 

     "Look at Fenris," He said, shifting to sit closer to Hawke. "He has let one bad experience color his whole world. Surely you want someone more open-minded than that..."

 

Elanna frowned slightly as she answered, "Do you know anything about his past?"

 

     "Not much, but even that is more than I ever care to learn."

 

     "I guess that's why you don't like him...you just don't care enough to know..."

 

     "The point I'm trying to make is that magic can be used for wonderfully good and useful things," Anders said hastily, afraid he may have upset Hawke.

 

     "I know..." Elanna began, playing with the white beach sand between her toes. "Bethany's a mage, and she's nothing like those in the Imperium, so of course I don't assume all mages are bad, if that's what you're getting at, Anders."

 

She smiled at him, and he tweaked her nose.

 

     "Ah, you beat me to it, Hawke," he said jokingly, but quickly became contemplative again. He kicked the sand in front of him idly. "What if I told you there may be a way to get most of your memories back?"

 

Hawke blanched as she faced Anders. He had her complete attention.

 

     "There's no guarantee you will regain your memories from the past at all, and even if you did, you'd most likely forget the events that followed your...'situation'."

 

Hawke listened carefully, and Anders continued, trying his best not to become unnerved by her bright eyes.

 

     "It's more like channeling one set of amnesia for another one... only this set doesn't span as long of a time. I basically use magic to 'reset' your mind, as it were."

 

Hawke stared at Anders for a while without saying anything.

 

     "Can we tell Bethany and my mother to meet us at the clinic, then?"

 

     "Certainly."

* * *

 

 

     In less than an hour, Bethany and Leandra met Anders and Hawke inside the clinic. Seeing her daughter again for the first time since the argument at Gamlen's house, the woman smiled cautiously. Bethany was talking to Anders who was sifting through a book while drinking draughts of a variety of colors.

 

     "Why can't I do it? I'm a mage, and she's my sister..."

 

     "The amount of mana you'd need, the concentration, the difficulty...it's all too much for someone of your training, unfortunately. Unless you know the exact science of the magic you'll..." Anders cut himself off, and shut the book loudly.

 

     "I'll what, exactly?"

 

     "You'll both be dead by the end of it."

 

Bethany brought her hand over her heart, and Leandra walked out of the clinic at that point.

 

* * *

 

_      What would Mother and Father have thought if they could see me now, seeking help for the second time from an escaped elf-slave... _

 

Leandra found who she was looking for, outside of his mansion, mending bits of leather outside in the afternoon heat. Taking a deep breath to give her confidence, she cleared her throat delicately.

 

     "Fenris, I'm sorry to disturb you again, but..."

 

She assumed he would look up and address her once she stopped speaking, but when he did not, Leandra became nervous and wrung her hands on her dress.

 

     "It's Anders..."

 

Fenris startled her by abruptly standing and looking at her straight in the face as he towered over her small frame.

 

     "What has he done, has he hurt you?"

 

His eyes were alert and piercing, and seemed to search for any sign of bruising or cuts.

 

    "No no, I'm quite all right." Leandra replied softly. "It's Elanna I fear for. Anders has some kind of plan to "fix" her, but..."

 

Fenris sensed the nervousness in her voice, but remained silent.

 

      "Please come to the clinic, I..." Leandra's voice faltered for a second before she continued, "Elanna trusts you, and so do I..."

 

He nodded.

 

* * *

 

     Hawke sat down on one of the rickety chairs in the furthest room of the clinic. She tried to swallow the lump of nervousness that had now formed in the back of her throat, but was unsuccessful. She was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing. Hawke perked up, however, when she heard the door open once again, and her mother reentered the room. Her eyes lit up when her mother moved to the side, and Fenris emerged from behind her, walking in her direction. Elanna's face changed quickly as she tried to hide the fact that she was clearly pleased to see the elf. She turned her body slightly away from him.

 

     Fenris reached Hawke within a few steps, whispering something to her in Tevene to which Hawke merely closed her eyes and allowed herself to smile. She turned toward him once again as he continued to whisper into her ear, and Leandra could see her nervousness disappearing.

 

     She watched the interaction from afar. Part of her wanted to loathe the elf who was paying so much attention to her daughter. After all, it was technically his fault that her eldest daughter was in this predicament. But there was another voice inside Leandra, reminding her of how her daughter was when she had first met the elf. There was a light in her eyes that she had not seen in Elanna since the day their father died, and seeing it again brought joy to Leandra's heart. She sent up a silent prayer as Fenris took a seat next to her younger daughter in the waiting area.

 

_ May the Maker bless the both of them, no matter what happens... _

 

 

      "Now, if everyone could please wait here while I work on Hawke," Anders said to the group as he took his staff from the corner of the room.

 

Bethany and Leandra nodded obediently, but Fenris looked past the mage and into the room where Hawke sat looking scared once again.

 

      "It could take a few hours to do this, and any disruptions could be fatal." He continued, making sure Fenris in particular heard what he said.

 

     "We understand," Bethany said, speaking for the entire group.

 

     "Good."

 

     "Anders?" Bethany ventured again, quietly.

 

     "Yes?"

 

     "What exactly will you do to her?"

 

Anders faced the young woman, and thought about what to say.

 

      "You're a mage so perhaps you will understand the mechanics. I'll use my mind and body as an energy catalyst to readjust Hawke's memories, in a sense. I'll take all the energy from her memories she cannot access at this point, and then redeposit them the way they were meant to be. It's similar to a one-way energy transferral as I will block off my own energies and memories from passing to her."

 

Bethany sat in silence as she pondered what that meant. "But, you'll be able to see all of her memories, won't you?"

 

Fenris looked up in slight alarm.

 

     "Yes..." Anders said quietly. "But, I will be respectful and discreet in every way possible so as not to violate her privacy, of course. Memories, for the most part, only have meaning to the person who possesses them originally."

 

Anders disappeared into the back room once again, with the door opened slightly to allow fresh air to flow through.

 

      The women began to talk amongst themselves quietly, but Fenris didn't want to be distracted by polite conversation. He strained his eyes and his ears to gather as much as he could about what was happening in the next room. He could not make out what was said, but he saw Anders speaking with Hawke, nodding as he placed his hand on top of hers. Fenris clenched his fist.

 

_ Is that the only thing that he wishes to get out of this, her good graces? Despicable... _

 

     Watching once again, he saw Hawke lying down, most of her body now out of eyesight. Anders, however, could be seen clearly, running his staff in a large arch over his own body as he mouthed words Fenris could not discern. Whatever he said must have had the desired effect, because the mage was soon bubbled in a green-ish blue light similar to a colored barrier. He saw Anders place his hands on either side of Hawke's face, and touched his forehead to hers while still speaking in a hushed voice. The point where their heads touched pulsated green, and Hawke closed her eyes as if in a deep slumber.

 

     "That's how the transfer works..."

 

Fenris was startled out of his angry brooding by Bethany who was looking at his expression in earnest.

 

     "I do not wish to know how magic works, just as I would not wish to know how a snake's venom kills its prey."

 

Bethany smiled. She lowered her voice so her mother wouldn't hear.

 

     "There's nothing intimate about the contact, trust me. It is rather charming to see you a bit jealous over my sister, though..."

 

Fenris felt himself laugh nervously in response.

 

     Several hours indeed passed, and the situation remained unchanged. The air was getting colder as the sun sank into the horizon, and the three companions waiting at the clinic began to feel anxious and uneasy. Sweat was pouring down Anders face, and Hawke remained still, but seemed to twitch every once in awhile. Leandra sat staring into nothingness while she held her daughter's hand and rested her head on her shoulder. Bethany stroked her mother's hair to try and console her, but was feeling nauseous herself. Looking over at Fenris, Bethany saw his hands were folded together as he hunched over with his elbows on his knees. Mumbling softly under his breath with his eyes closed, Bethany guessed he must have been praying, but she didn't know who he'd pray to.

 

Everyone lurched forward abruptly, Leandra and Bethany nearly falling to the floor. The ground shook again, and a loud explosion hurt their ears as they tried to maintain their balance. They heard the sound of tables and chairs being blown, and glass shattering.

 

     "This wasn't supposed to happen, I was so very careful!" Fenris heard Anders shouting in distress.

 

The elf burst through the door. He found Hawke and Anders on the opposite side of the room, covered in dust and sweat in a pile of broken table legs, torn books, and burnt papers. Anders was facing Hawke, and the both of them mumbled incoherently. Bethany and Leandra peered in on the scene.

 

Anders held Elanna's face in his hands and proceeded to stroke it as he examined her face.

 

     "I'm so sorry, Hawke, it was not supposed to..."

 

Hawke was not looking at him, however. Her gaze was focused on something that seemed far away, and her eyes darted to the left and right as if she could not understand what she was seeing. They began to speak back and forth in rapid succession.

 

     "My little girl," cried Leandra, "Did it work, is she cured-"

 

     "The fire...your parents sent you away..." Hawke said in the common tongue, in a confused trance-like manner.

 

Anders' only answer was to repeat "I'm sorry." as he sat facing her.

 

     "The Circle...at the Circle...how _terrible_..." She continued, seemingly unaware of everyone now in the room.

 

Bethany looked petrified, and Leandra looked confused. Fenris glowed from rage as he watched the mage continuing to caress her face tenderly.

 

     "Yes it was..." They heard him reply. It was like watching Anders' life being told through Elanna's words.

 

    " _Unwén_? Unwén..." She kept repeating as her eyes remained looking off into the distance.

 

     "Yes, I'm right here," Anders said as he kissed her cheek.

 

The door to the clinic slammed shut.

 

    "Grey Warden...darkspawn...Justice..." Hawke shuttered, but her eyes continued to watch his life unfold before her eyes. A look of fear and befuddlement washed over her expression, as her eyes began to settle and focus once again.

 

Hawke squinted her eyes as she looked at Anders.

 

     "You..." She said slowly.  "You have so much hate, it's eating you alive, and it's Justice who feeds upon it..."

 

Anders took her hands in his, looking almost thrilled.

 

     "But now you _understand_ , now you see why I do what I must..."

 

Hawke withdrew her hands, looking upon him with distaste and disbelief.

 

     "No...I saw your mind, and I feel for you, but that does not mean I understand why..."

 

She felt people watching her and she looked up to see her mother and sister gaping wide-mouthed at her.

 

     Hawke looked around the room somewhat urgently. "Where is he?"

 

Although they understood her, they didn't answer. "Where's Fenris?" She repeated loudly.

 

Bethany and her mother finally looked toward the door.

 

Her heart dropped to her feet.

 

_ If he saw what I think he saw then he'll think... _

 

     Untangling herself from Anders, Hawke nearly leapt towards to the clinic's exit, jumping into the alleyway. A few stray animals were digging in a nearby trash heap, and a stall owner shooed them away before they had a chance to grab at his goods for sale.

 

Her chest began to tighten as she looked down the long narrow path in front of her.

 

     "Once a wild dog, always a wild dog." Anders said in a low voice. He put a hand gently on Hawke's shoulder as he tried to bring her back inside of the clinic.

 

Wincing from the contact, she kept her eyes fixed on the alley.

 

Fenris was nowhere to be seen.

 


End file.
